All Sides of this Tale are Crazy
by Rawrzii
Summary: AU. So, long story short, a tyrranical empire reigns supreme over a suffering country; and needless to stay, a group of individuals gather together to form a rebellion — also, there is magic. Now, what would happen if all the Total Drama contestants were born into this type of world? Well, they wouldn't all be on the same side, right? Readers decide how the story progresses.
1. It's Just a Tiny Peek

.0.

* * *

_On [**your**] opinion and involvement with the Empire:_

[**Unknown Rebel**]: Yeah, my parents are officers in the Empire's Militia. Yeah, I served as a soldier for the Empire for a year or two. So what? Following orders that I don't want to follow isn't my thing… The Empire is just bad news, man... Bad news.

[**Unknown Empire Diplomat**]: I come from a long line of diplomats that have served for the empire for decades. I will follow in my ancestors' footsteps. However, I will go even farther than that! You will see what I mean when the time comes around.

**[Unknown Empire General**]: Oh. "All Hail the Empire!"... or something of that nature. I don't really care for such temporary things. I must admit though, I really am enjoying this title of "General". It allows me break all the "toys" I want without any repercussions. I'm actually one of the Empire's best tortu — er, interrogators… Ha-ha-ha-ha.

[**Unknown Bartender**]: Uh, the Empire's okay… I guess. The rebels are too...I mean, this one time, my parents and I housed this one chick. We thought she was rebel at first — she seemed pretty beat up and kinda feral too. We gave her food and stuff. 'Turns out she was actually a soldier. She was still pretty cool with it though. So, yeah…

[**Unknown Empire Soldier**]: Sir, yes, sir! The Empire is great, s— Ow! I bit my tongue… Hmm, for some reason, some of the things that the Empire carries out doesn't sit right with me… e-especially that Magic-Registeration Protocol! A couple of my friends' families were broken apart because of that...

[**Small Town Librarian**]: Uh, are you seriously asking me this? The Empire is just a politically corrupt powerhouse; it'll go down eventually — I mean, just look at the riots that are starting up. Sure, they may be small now, but eventually it'll get out of control. Huh? Do something for propaganda or be arrested? … The Empire is "sooo" great… Woo-hoo. Cheers. Happy?

[**Street Fortuneteller (?)**]: The Empire is a corrupt tyranny, built by the pains of others. A dark aura surrounds this entire country... I suggest you leave as soon as possible, or the dark aura here might corrupt your own… I do, however, sense a collection of white spirits that are shining bright in all of this darkness — I wonder…?

* * *

It was an unfortunate mistake. It had to be.

The girl rubbed her arms uncomfortably as a drops of water sluggishly dripped onto her red head from a crack in the ceiling. The short boy who stood beside her shivering in the chilled air voiced her thoughts out loud as he prodded at a stain on the floor with his left foot:

"This has to be a mistake…"

The two glanced at each other uncertainly, feeling troubled over the fact that their long and hard journey may have brought them to a dead end.

"Oh. You've definitely got the right place."

A dark-haired female adolescent appeared in the room out of thin air, her dark-blue lips coming to a close as she finished her statement. She was dressed casually, a collage of dark blue, green, and black cloth enveloping her petite figure; and she gave off an air of mystery and queerness. With a pale and slender hand, the adolescent tucked a lock of turquoise hair behind her ear and smiled slyly: "Welcome to the rebellion… Zoey and Cameron, right?"

* * *

Capital City was a grand kind of city that stood at the center of the Empire's vast regions, and it was grand in every way. The people who glided gracefully across the pearly white streets were grand as were the silver roads that glistened beside them.

The silver roads, when looked upon from an aerial view, enveloped the entire city like a spiderweb. The singular, intricate "parts" of this web came together at one grand point that stood tall near the center of the city: the Military District.

The district was raised on a steel platform that towered over the rest of the city, and the tall walls surrounding the district measured twenty-thousand miles around. An elongated track field stretched itself in a circle just behind the walls, and on that field ran a collection of twenty black-and-white clothed adolescents. Three of those adolescents ran far ahead of the rest. Two out of three inhumanly-paced runners in particular were shouting at each other in between breaths:

"I can run forty-thousand miles in my sleep. This is nothing!"

"Oh yeah? Well, I can run a million miles in my sleep - with my eyes closed!"

"That doesn't even make any sense!"

The seventeen who trailed behind the trio whispered amongst themselves, despite the fact that they were running short of breath.

"Looks like Jo and Brick are at it again." one of the seventeen whispered with flick of the head.

"When are they not at it?" another shouted back with a half-hearted snicker. "It's almost like they're into each other or something."

"Speaking of which," continued a runner with a slouching pace, "it's a wonder Lightning hasn't realized that Jo is a girl yet."

All seventeen gazes drifted over to the third member of the fast-sprinting trio and watched as he mocked the other two, saying something along the lines of, "Sha-Lightning never sha-loses!", right before he increased his speed. The seventeen then, with heavy sighs, watched as the trio turned a regular warm-up jog into a racing competition.

"Well," another of the seventeen grimaced, "there's no doubt that those three are going to be selected and put into one of the Crowned Generals' platoons."

"I actually kind of feel sorry for them." one other brought up, glancing up at the large tower that erected at the center of the district. "I mean, have you've heard the rumors about the Crowned Generals? People say that they're totally nuts!"

"I know!" continued another with a shiver. "Have you heard the aliases that they've received: 'The Psycho Hose Beast'? 'The Malevolent One'? 'The Female Bully'? Bad mojo…"

* * *

On the edge of the balcony that ejected from the second highest floor of the tower that oversaw Capital City and its Military District stood a man clothed in a regal, crisp, ebony military-esque outfit. His dark-sewn wear was adorned with golden laced-in shoulderpads and other glistening trinkets. The right side of his chest was decorated with several pristine-looking medals, most of which looked a little too suspiciously clean. On the man's dark head rested a black military cap, also adorned with golden trinkets and a strange-looking insignia.

Despite the man's tired look, an amused smile played on his face as he observed the running group of adolescents twenty yards below him: "How stupid can they be?"

A sudden loud shout broke the man out of his reverie, and he turned just in time to see a flash of black and bright orange lunge at him.

"Hiya, Mal!" shouted the one who had lunged at him — the one who was also currently hanging from his neck with an ear-to-ear grin. "What's shakin', bacon?"

The one who hung from his neck was a female who had bright-orange and wild hair that was tamed back only by a black military cap — a cap that resembled his own. In fact, her entire outfit resembled his, save for the fact that her chest was adorned with more medals.

"Currently my body with rage, Izzy." the man, Mal, replied in a dark tone.

"Aww, don't be such a drag, Mal!" the woman, Izzy, replied as she hugged him hard. She then buried her face into his neck and breathed in deeply, before she released her grip and scratched her bright head. "Have I ever told you that you have this, like, really weird smell. It's like you smell really good on the inside, but really, really, really, really bad on the outside. Do you use cologne? Is it enchanted?"

"No, I have no use for such products." Mal answered coolly, resting his elbows on the edge of the balcony and refocusing his attention on the things going on below. "And yes, you've informed me that I smell 'weird' many times over already."

"Ohhhh." Izzy chuckled, readjusting her cap and following his gaze down to the running group of twenty. "Ooo, are you picking the trainees you want in your platoon already? That's new!"

"Yes, I am, actually." Mal nodded; he shifted, so that he could look at the orange-haired female head-on. "Senor Burrosmuerto has placed me on special assignment involving that new anti-Empire party that's becoming quite the riot nowadays."

"A special assignment?" Izzy questioned, the bright look in her eyes fading away, a frown taking its place.

"It's like hide-and-seek." He explained in a sing-song voice; he paused in thought and a sadistic grin played across his face. "Actually, 'hide-and-slaughter' holds more true in this case."

* * *

**A/N:** Well, I'm not sure if I should continue this AU-verse fic or not… I guess it really just depends on whether or not anyone will actually want to read this thing.

Anyways, as for the Reader's Choice for this chapter, you get to pick which point of view (Unknown Rebel, Small Town Librarian, etc) the next chapter should start with. Btw, could you guess which characters the "unknown" people were?


	2. It's Not Much of a Story

- 1 -

* * *

… Now, this isn't much of a "story" **—**

Wait! Sit down and let me finish!

…

Like I was saying: it's not much of a "story". It's more of an unfortunate conglomeration of distinct events with a bunch of distinct individuals reacting, for better or for worse (mostly for worse, in my opinion) to them. I just so happen to be the unfortunate witness of all of it.

Let me narrow down the playing field for you a bit.

There are thirty-eight "main actors" in this, for the lack of a better word, "unscripted play". And by "unscripted", I really do mean unscripted. No directors, no guidelines, no by-the-book rules… Nothing: complete chaos **—** in a "fun" way, of course…

Anyways, as for the setting, I guess one could say the primary event that set off this chain of happenings was when mana-users, magic-users, revealed themselves to the world. If you think about it thoroughly, the starting link actually goes back even farther than that.

Whatever.

Time for a history lesson.

After mana-users revealed themselves, an organizational alliance was formed through the E.M.P.I.R.E. Act. However, once different factions realized how useful mana-users actually were, a war started out. The result of that war was the Empire.

One of the first things the Empire did was issue the Mana-Registration Protocol which required all children born within families that had at least one grandparent who was a mana-user to register themselves in a special program. If that child ended up being mana-user, he or she would be taken away to… Well, you'll see.

Do you still follow? …. Good.

Back to our actors. Now, since there are so many "actors" in this "play", it's going to be hard to pick which "actor" to start with and which event to talk about first.

Hmm… How about we start with him **—** the reknown rebel **— **"the Delinquent"? His character seems like the perfect platform from which to launch and retell this… "play".

* * *

[**Schaffer Port, 22 km south from Capital City**]

The man was irritated. Any passerby could tell you that much. What was unknown to those passersby was the source of the man's irritation. The way the man was dressed and held himself, however, prevented them from asking him about his mood. They feared that he would retaliate in righteous and "justified" anger. So, the passersby just averted their gazes and turned their heads in the hopes of retaining their small town's peace.

The irritated man wore a dark gray and crisp, silver-gilded attire. The holster for some type of weapon hung stiffly at his side, glinting dangerously in the clouded sunlight. Strapped onto the other side of his was a silver badge-looking thing that read: "Schaffer Port: Military Police."

He was an authority figure, apparently a very unkind one at that.

"You are in search of someone, aren't you?"

The man turned swiftly around and turned a full circle, but he could not find the asker of the question. He took a step forward, irritation turning into mild confusion, and found himself colliding into a small body. Looking down, he found himself staring into the airy eyes of a fair-haired girl.

"Look, girl," the man growled, taking a step backwards before digging into a small pocket sewn onto the left side of his uniform; he pulled out a folded slip of paper and handed it to the girl with a frown, "have you seen this man?"

The girl unfolded the paper and found herself staring at the sneering portrait of an adolescent with strikingly electric green hair. Right above the adolescent's picture in swirly writing were the words: "Duncan, the Delinquent. Wanted for…"

The girl squinted at the tiny-text paragraph that listed the criminal's many offenses.

"Have you seen him or not, girl?" the police officer repeated, his tongue clicking in irritation.

"You should stay away from this man." the girl replied, folding the paper back into its original form and handing it back to the officer. "You'll be in danger if you don't."

"What was that?"

"I can tell by your aura."

"...What? Wait **—** show me your ID!"

The officer grabbed the girl's wrists roughly and pulled her up to eye level. A few passersby screamed in surprise and formed an uncertain circle around the officer and the girl.

"You're a mana-user, aren't you?" the man growled; he shook the girl roughly. "You're not registered, are you?!"

"Whoa! Mister Police Officer, don't tell me you forgot to take your chill pill this morning again?" This was a new voice, a mocking one; and it sliced through the rigid silence of the surrounding crowd like a knife.

Out of the gathered crowd emerged a tall adolescent whose face resembled the one that was printed onto the officer's folded paper. The adolescent was dressed in strangely dark and attention-drawing attire that seemed to emphasizd his arrogant personality perfectly.

The officer, shocked by the sudden turn of events, stood in place with a gaping expression; his grip on the short girl, loosened and she alighted gracefully ******—** a bit too gracefully **— **back onto the ground.

The girl stared deeply into the adolescent's steel-blue eyes with a strange smile, before she turned and disappeared into the other side of the crowd.

The atmosphere within the circled crowd then turned tense; it was if the gathered crowd was watching a standoff between two dominating animals rather than a standoff between a policeman and a criminal.

Suddenly, the bright-haired adolescent stepped forward, reached out a hand, and ruffled the officer's fair hair with a sloppy and mocking grin.

"How's my favorite police officer doin'?"

At this point, the officer's face was bright red with rage. If the man was a boiling pot, all of his water would've steamed out and evaporated already. That was how angry the officer looked.

"Duncan...!"

The crowd took a step backwards. The officer reached for his holster.

"Woah, dude!" the alleged criminal shouted in warning.

The officer continued his thought-out motion and pulled out the strange-weapon, a pistol-sword-like object, and aimed it at the adolescent.

The crowd immediately dispersed with a chorus of screams. The former passersby scrambled over each other in an attempt to retreat from the soon-to-be battle-scene.

The officer paid no heed to the fact that he could accidentally injure a citizen, and he immediately pulled the trigger to his weapon.

A thundering sound erupted throughout the entire area.

However, instead of a normal bullet emerging from the tip of the pistol, an expected and harsh bolt of blue lightning did. The lightning surged forward and appeared to hit the the delinquent head-on, spraying apart bits of sidewalk and sides of buildings in its aftermath.

The officer released a quiet breath and lowered his weapon, listening vaguely to the screams of the retreating citizens as well as the crumbling tumult of the surrounding buildings.

The officer realized that he was in trouble for damaging the small town, but he also realized (with a great amount of pride) that he had finally put down one of the Empire's greatest criminals. He panted heavily in relief, his knees nearly buckling beneath him.

"Wow. That sure was overkill, dude."

The officer's entire being froze.

"Pretty sweet enchanted weapon though; I kinda thought you were a mana-user for a second there."

The officer slowly swiveled his head around: "But that's impossible!"

"Aw, come on, man. You should know by now that nothing is impossible with me."

In the clearing and in the opposite direction from where he had been standing before stood the smirking adolescent delinquent. Aside from his burnt clothing and slightly singed hair, he was completely unscarred.

The officer began to fumble to get a grip on his sword-pistol

"Y'know, I actually got a new enchanted weapon recently too." the delinquent continued slyly; he reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver contraption. He held the object out in the light; and from the silver glint it gave off, it was easy to tell that the held object was a lighter. "Let's give it a test drive!"

In one fluid motion, the adolescent flicked open the lid of the lighter and ignited the flame.

The entire area became engulfed in flames.

* * *

[**Unknown Location**]

Duncan released a heavy sigh as he walked up the swirling steel staircase while simultaneously wiping off the thick layer of soot that covered his face with his gloved hand.

He walked upwards in silence with the loud clanging of leather against metal as his only company.

Reaching up to his head, he pulled down a strand of singed green hair and rolled it between his fingertips with an unhappy frown.

"Man, it's going to take forever to get this redone." he sighed to no one in particular; pausing in thought, he found a small smirk spreading across his face. "Well, at least that officer's hair is worse off than mine." He snickered, picturing the officer's shocked face, clean of eyebrows and facial hair.

When the adolescent finally reached the top of the staircase, he found himself standing in front of a rotted wooden door. He reached out and knocked:

Twice.

Paused.

Thrice.

Paused.

Once.

The area became slightly warmer and faint light pulsated from beneath the door. From behind it, he could hear muffled chattering and shifting footsteps.

Duncan stepped forward and pushed the door open with a heavy sigh. What waited for him beyond the door, he had not exactly been expecting.

As he stepped into the light, all of the muffled chattering he had previously heard came to a stop. When his eyes had finally adjusted themselves to the brightness, he found himself staring at a familiar-looking room with a handful of unfamiliar people filling it. All of those unfamiliar people's eyes were locked onto his form.

The door swung to a close behind him.

"Well," he coughed, clearing his throat and scanning the crowd; his surprised expression hardened into a glare **—** he couldn't let the newbies think that they had caught him off guard, "is this sorry lot seriously all we've got for new recruits?"

"Duncan!" came a shout from the corner of the room originated from a pale-skinned, dark-haired woman. "What the hell happened? Where have you been? We've been waiting for fifty minutes for you… and why do you look like a roasted turkey?"

"Ran into some trouble with the authorities back in Shaffer Port." Duncan replied offhandedly. He walked over and collapsed onto the couch **— **it was the same couch that half of the newcomers were uncomfortably sitting on. They gave him strange glances, causing him to raise a lazy eyebrow: "Need something?"

The newcomers rigidly shook their heads, scooting as far away from him as possible.

"Well," the person who had addressed him first started with an irritated expression; Duncan received a slap upside the head from the said person, "get your lazy butt up and help me start explaining the circumstance to the newbies."

"Woah, chill, Gwen." Duncan grimaced, rubbing his head. "You're edgy, but you're never usually this edgy." He sat up and slung his arm over the back of the couch, gazing around the room as if in search for something. "By the way, where are the others?"

"They couldn't come. They ran into some trouble while coming up from the south. Security is getting tighter than usual."

"Yeah, I noticed that too on my way here." the delinquent replied, ruffling his sulfur-smelling hair. "So much for the welcome party…" He turned to their guests who were shifting uncomfortably in place and took his time to fully look them over.

There were four unfamiliar recruits in all; two of those recruits occupied the couch next to him. The one who sat closest to him was a female who appeared several years younger than he was. She had a head of bright red hair that was pulled neatly back into two low-hanging ponytails. A faded pink flower that looked like it had been freshly picked only hours before was intertwined in the locks of scarlet. She wore modern-looking entire, but she looked awfully uncomfortable in it.

She was as easy to read as a book. Cute. Shy. Nervous. Not very confrontational.

The boy who sat on the couch on the other side of her was short in size. Large, circular glasses rested on the edge of his button nose, and the pair of dark eyes that hid behind those glasses darted around the room wildly.

He was pretty easy to read as well. Intelligent. Low social capabilities. Easily nervous.

Now, for the other two (a male and a female) who were not seated.

Duncan chose to look over the female first. The girl was tall and towered over the small table she was **— **for some reason **— **ecstatically looking over in the corner of the room. She had strangely purple hair **—** he could tell, however, that it was dyed due to the way her roots appeared darker in the dim light. She seemed oblivious to the fact that he was carefully watching her.

She was a little bit harder to read. Strange. Easily excited. Optimistic.

He shifted his gaze.

The other recruit stood all the way on the other side of the room, toying with the large lamp that was placed there. A mop of messy dark-brown hair rested on his head; some of the dark-brown strands dipped low into his eyes that were covered by circular glasses.

Easy-going. Laid-back **—** maybe too laid-back.

"So, introductions." Duncan drew out with a bored and sarcastic sighed. He gestured vaguely in the scarlet-haired girl's direction. "You first, Red. Name and reason for joining, go."

"Didn't you read the papers about them that Harold sent out?" Gwen questioned with an irritated frown as she crossed her slender arms. "Their reasons and names were in there."

"Yeah, I know." Duncan shrugged; he folded his arms behind his head and leaned back into the sofa. "I want to hear it from them though."

Gwen rolled her eyes with a click of the tongue but didn't verbally protest.

"Go ahead, Red."

"The name is _Zoey_." the redhead replied in an irritated manner.

Duncan found himself doing a double-take, surprised at the girl's sudden change in attitude.

"Oh," the girl shrunk back, also realizing her change in tone, "sorry if that sounded rude."

Duncan simply raised a thick eyebrow.

"Uhm," Zoey continued as she averted her gaze and tapped her chin, "I used to live in a really small village. We didn't hear much about the things the Empire did, but then…"

She exchanged glances with the boy next to her who gave her an encouraging smile.

"... something happened," she continued vaguely, "and it wasn't right, so that's why I wanted to join," she looked up suddenly and stared directly into Duncan's eyes with fierce determination, "I want to do what's right."

"Alright, that's good enough for me. How about you, Bubble-boy?"

"Well, I'm Cameron," the small boy introduced with a shy smile, "and I wanted to join because I want to be friends with people who share my beliefs about mana-users and the Empire; and because I want to experience adventure!"

"Well, that was hella cheesey." Duncan grimaced. He then received numerous glares,which caused him to decide to end his thought on a more positive note: "It was good though." The delinquent shifted and nodded vaguely in the brown-haired adolescent's direction: "You?"

"Uh, well, the name's Sam." the adolescent answered, scratching the side of his head. "I basically joined for the same reasons as the other guys," he gestured towards Cameron and Zoey who were both smiling encouragingly at each other, "and because Harold and I are, like, childhood friends and… so yeah."

"Okay," Duncan nodded, appearing unimpressed; he turned his head towards the final recruit, "Jumpy-girl, it's your turn."

When addressed, the tall, dark-skinned girl's head snapped forward immediately, causing all within the room to start in surprise. She gave an ear-to-ear grin and rushed to Duncan's side, taking a big and deep breath before she released a slew of almost indiscernible words:

"My name is Sierra and I am such a big fan of you guys! I mean that's why I joined! I think you guys are really, really, really, really cool. I actually run an article about you guys! I'm kind of disappointed that all of the others didn't show up, but you guys are, like, super amazing too! I mean, you guys are the ones who founded this whole group in the first place!"

The room's temperature dropped and a strange crackling sound snapped through the air, but the babbling girl didn't notice.

"You guys grew up in Capital City together and stuff and were, like, childhood friends and stuff. It was kind of just like a joke back then though, like a cute little secret club. It's really too bad that when you guys finally made the group a real-deal and started doing stuff Courtney ditched you. That was so, so, so, so, so **—**

The room crackled once more, but this time the crackle was much louder.

Sierra stopped her chatter immediately and looked around the room wildly. The recruits followed suit, their eyes soon widening in horror as they something that defied reality unfolded before them.

The walls of the room were being consumed by a strange and glowing green substance; the parts of the wall that were already enveloped in the green color began to crack and chip with a horrendous sound. Instead of falling to the ground, the chipped pieces of green floated upwards towards the greening ceiling. Gaping black holes that seemed to go on forever were left in the chipped pieces places on the walls.

"How **— **_How_ the hell do you know that?!"

The rage-filled question came from Gwen, the only person within the room who was not panicked by the sudden change of events.

"Gwen!"

The delinquent reached for the pale adolescent's wrist, just before the luminescent and green floor chipped away beneath him. Losing his footing, he fell forward and braced himself. Milliseconds later he found his face slamming onto the floor. The sudden pain left him in a daze, but he quickly shook it off and came to find that the room had returned back into its original state.

"Duncan! I'm so sorry!"

"W-what the heck just happened?"

The question came from Zoey who was currently standing on the very edge of the couch on her tippy-toes with wide-eyes. Cameron who was huddled right beside her slowly straightened himself out and turned towards Gwen with a curious expression:

"Gwen, are you possibly a mana-user?"

Zoey and Sam stiffened in shock at the inquiry.

"Yeah, yeah, she is!" Sierra informed, as she kept her panicked and tight embrace around Sam in place. "She's a witch-class actually - a really, really, really, really rare one too! She's a -

"Dimensional Witch." Duncan finished.

He and Gwen now stood only inches away from where Sierra and Sam stood. Both of their dark gazes were, however, locked onto Sierra only.

"Now, Jumpy," Duncan hissed under his breath, "tell me how you know about us."

"Well," Sierra explained with an oblivious smile, "I actually know this one information broker who gives information like that away all of the time! Well, the information comes with a price, of course. Information on you was like, really, really, really expensive."

Gwen and Duncan exchanged looks, unsure of how to react.

"He actually has a lot of information about the Empire too!" Sierra continued. "He knows a lot of things about the Crowned Generals!"

"The Crowned Generals?!" Duncan gapped in complete and utter shock, mirroring Gwen's own expression; shaking his head, he took another step towards Sierra, so that he was only centimeters away from her face. "You better not be lying to me!"

"I'm not!"

"But," Gwen interjected, "no one knows anything about the Generals! Everyone who encounters them ends up dead or horribly maimed!"

"Well," Sierra replied defensively with a slight huff, "he's good! I mean, he did know everything about you guys."

"We need to get this dude." Duncan mumbled under his breath, walking back to the sofa and plopping himself down. "He could be trouble."

"Or an asset. He can give us info about the Generals" Gwen suggested. She crossed her arms and sent a glare in Sierra's direction. "Where is this guy?"

"Uhm," Sierra tapped her chin, "I think he's still in Seton City; he was disguised as a librarian last time I saw him."

Duncan shot Gwen a strange and questioning glance.

"I don't have any portals set up in Seton City." Gwen answered the unspoken question. "The closest portal I have to that place is Willowasher Villa, but that place is overrun Empire soldiers."

"'Portals'?" Sam and Zoey questioned in unison.

"Dimensional Witches can open doorways and pocket dimensions to other far-off places. Portals are like doorways that help from one place to another. The can't open up a portal to a place they haven't been to though. Doing that would be risky." Cameron explained with a small smile. He gestured around the room. "This room is actually just in a pocket dimension."

The short boy then walked over to the door and pulled it open, revealing nothing but black emptiness.

"See?"

"Woah!" came the awed gasps of Zoey, Sam, and Sierra.

"By the way, Gwen," Cameron continued, turning towards the addressed adolescent with a curious smile, "did you ever have to register yourself because of the Protocol?"

Gwen's pleasantly pleased expression that had come upon her when she had heard Cameron's explanation immediately turned sour.

"That's none of your business."

"Oh… you're right. I'm sorry. I'm not really used to talking to people."

Gwen simply shrugged half-heartedly in response.

"Okay," Zoey interjected; her eyebrows became furrowed and she squinted at the ground in concentration, "so I get how that information broker can be dangerous to us, but how will knowing about the Generals help us?"

"The Generals are like powerhouses for the Empire." Duncan explained, punching his left hand into the palm of his right. "We take them out and we're one step closer to our goal."

"The next closest portal I have to the city is in the town of Citadel." Gwen informed as she crossed her arms. "It's kilometers away from the city, but it's the best thing we got."

"Alright, kiddies." Duncan grinned widely; he cracked his knuckles and rolled his head. "We're taking you on your first field trip!

* * *

[**Capital City, Military District - Second Crowned General's Office**]

The General trailed the tips of his finger along the grooved edge of his desk with a blank expression. His desk itself was piled with stacks of paperwork, all of which were neatly organized into six different sections.

His dark gaze was firmly locked onto an object that was hung up on hooks above a desk-drawer on the other side of the room. The "object" at which he gazed at gazed back at him.

It was a mirror **— **an ornate one at that. Actually, everything within his spacious office was ornate. The marble floor beneath him appeared sparkling new, as did the small table placed at the center of the room. The table was backed by two leather-covered couches that seemed to shine in the bright light that filtered through the glass window behind his desk.

KNOCK.

The loud noise drew the General's attention away from the mirror.

"Come in."

The large twin doors creaked open and a man dressed in a dark gray military police uniform came sauntering in. The man had steel-blue eyes and gelled-back black hair. As the man entered the room, he gave a stiff salute:

"General Mal, sir. I'm **— **"

"Well, if it isn't Mr. Harrietser, father of the reknown delinquent, Duncan Harrietser." the General grinned, clasping his hands behind his back with a serene smile. "I just received news a few hours ago that your son burnt all of the facial hair off of a military police officer in Schaffer Port."

Mr. Harrietser stiffened.

"What is it that you want to discuss?"

"Sir," Mr. Harrietser drew out with effort **—** it honestly felt strange for him to address someone who was younger than him as 'sir', "I've heard that you're being sent out on a mission to capture the rebels of the new anti-Empire party that has emerged recently."

"Oh, yes, 'capture'." the General agreed, a dark and sarcastic undertone hidden deep within his voice.

"I came to ask a favor of you."

"A favor?"

Despite his calm and serene appearance, the General was jumping excitedly in his own skin. Something unexpectedly interesting was unfolding before him.

"If you come across my son on your mission, I beg of you, please send him back to me!"

A strange look crossed the General's face then. It was an unreadable look - a mix of indiscernible emotions. Surprise? Hate? Sadness? Perhaps.

"That's quite the favor, Mr. Harrietser." the General sighed. "Let's see…"

On the other side of the General's door stood a blonde-haired female adolescent. Her well-shaped figure was pressed hard against the door; and her ear, placed directly against the door itself, strained to hear the conversation going on inside.

In her left hand was a strange card-like object that held the image of a slender, dark-haired girl. Raising the card-like object to her lips, the blonde adolescent began whispering a slew of words:

"Okay, so **—** uhm **—** Heather, right now they're…."

* * *

**A/N**: So I am continuing this story! Huzzah! And it's all thanks to you guys! I really appreciated every, single one of your reviews. I didn't think that people would want to see this fic continued honestly….

o / o.

Anyways, Reader's Choice:

Should Mal...

A) Comply with Duncan's father's request

B) Reject Duncan's Father's request

By the way, are there any other pairings that you'd like to see in this fic?

I've also decided that I'm going to draw and post a new story cover every few chapters that'll reflect the stuff going on ;33. Do you think that's a good idea?

As for the "unknown" people listed in the beginning of the previous chapter… Most of you guys got most of your guesses right!


	3. It's Like a Game

- 2 -

Route x A

* * *

[**Capital City, Military District - Second General's Office**]

"Let's see…"

Mr. Harrietser watched with mild suspicion as the General mulled over his recently given proposal. He was confident that the General would accept it, because the General honestly just seemed like the type to accept such family-oriented pleas. However, for some odd reason, the General's exterior demeanor seemed to Mr. Harrietser like a ploy of some sort — a facade.

Harrietser recalled when he had first met the General at an initiational dinner party. The policeman remembered vaguely thinking something along the lines of, "there's no way this kid is one of the three fearsome Generals!". The adolescent had seemed too mild-mannered, too kind and sympathetic to be a blood-thirsty and rumored "psychotic" warrior. That very contradiction had always bothered him.

What was the General's true face? What were any of the Generals' true faces?

"Mr. Harrietser," the General finally began, seeming to follow a totally different trail of thought; the adolescent shook his head lightly, "you do realize that you are asking a _very_ big favor of me."

"Yes," Harrietser replied hesitantly, "Yes, I do. But, sir, he's my son—-

"Have you at least gone to the Council and told them your request?"

A pause of silence.

"No…"

"I see…."

Another pause.

"Please, General, I— He means everything to me! If you were a father, you would feel the same way. Your own father would feel the same way! You—"

Choking on his own words, Harrietser lowered his gaze, allowing his usually stoic face to contort with emotion. He recalled the feeling of complete anguish he had felt when he had first heard the announcement about the Empire taking military action against the rebellion; he recalled holding his sobbing wife as she buried her bright head into his chest and started slapping him wildly in a tantrum of unnamable emotion; he recalled receiving numerous phone calls from his other sons who were hysterical about the situation.

"That face you're making…" came the slow and almost sympathetic draw of the General.

Harriester snapped out of his muddled thoughts and straightened up to look at his higher-up directly. His higher-up, however, would not meet his eye.

The General was currently doubled over, dark hair hanging low over his face, with one hand wrapped tightly over his stomach and the other holding up his bowed head. His entire being was shaking with a tremor of emotion. Harrietser worried that if the General continued his shaking, his entire body would split splinter into tiny pieces. However, Harrietser was genuinely more surprised than worried at the sudden turn of events.

The General _was_ crying after all.

Suddenly, as fast as the snap of whip, the General's legs buckled underneath him and he slid to the ground in a slump. His upper-body's stance remained the same; his expression was still hidden from the police officer, but by the way the adolescent's shoulders continued to shake up and down, the officer could easily tell that he was on the verge on sobbing.

"Sir!" Harrietser began, eyebrows rising in surprise; his own eyes began to water profusely.

"Ah…ah…" came the low-pitched sound.

"General… I—-"

"Ahahahahahaahahahhahahahaha!"

Harrietser froze in place, but he did not do so out of surprise or rage or any similar emotion; he froze out of pure confusion. The sight before him was unbelievable.

The General was now rolling on the monochrome marble floor with both of his arms wrapped tightly around his stomach as an uncanny sound escaped his smiling lips. Tears of laughter were sliding out from his dark eyes, most of which he continually wiped off with a free hand.

"What the hell…?" Harrietser muttered with a gawking expression.

"Oh my god..ahaha…" The General choked out between gasps of breath. "That face you were making was… ahaha… absolutely perfect! Ahahaha!"

"What?"

The adolescent's dark and haughty laugh continued to endlessly echo throughout the office. Even when his laughter had completely died down to a quiet snicker, the echoes lingered like the smell of tobacco on a smoker's clothing.

"I don't think I've ever..aha…seen such a pitifully desperate expression in my life!" The General grinned, still laying with his back aligned against his officer floor; his dark eyes shifted suddenly to the officer's face and a strange smile found its way onto his tanned face. Rising from the floor in a sluggish motion, the General walked over to his desk and leaned against it in an exhausted fashion. "I really wouldn't mind if you made that face again — actually, it would make my day if you did!"

"Your… insane…" Harrietser muttered, looking at the man before him in newfound light. Were all of the Generals like this?

"Hmm, that may be true," the adolescent drew with a half-hearted and sarcastically discontent shrug, "but you know what they say! 'Sanity is overrated'!"

"I'm going to report to the Council — no, to the people! —- and tell them that you are evidently not mentally fit for the title of 'General', or any military position for that matter." Harrietser said darkly, folding his hands professionally behind his back.

"Oh, are you now?" the General raised an eyebrow with an amused grin. "But I haven't decided whether or not to take you up on your offer…. I doubt any other appointed General would kindly be insane enough to even consider your offer. Your son would probably just be…" The adolescent drew an index finger slowly across his neck, his grin growing. "Your own fate would probably be the same if I decided to let my tongue slip."

"Why would they believe an insane child?"

"Because they're the ones who appointed this insane child as a General in the first place."

Harrietser, rooted in place by the sudden turn of events, could only glare with immeasurable rage at the adolescent.

"Let me tell you something, Mr. Harrietser. This is a country of sheep and shepherds. The sheeps wander around in ignorant happiness without so much as batting an eyelash. There are black sheep, of course, who long for change. They imagine the steps they would take to reach the change they desire, much like how unhappy teenagers imagine running away from home and how low-income workers imagine beating their bosses' heads in with a lead pipe. In most cases, however, they never go beyond imagining. Those black sheep think a step further and ask themselves, 'what will become me after I do this?'. The answers to that question stop them in their tracks and they think to themselves: 'what's the point?'; and they continue on living their lives by imagining all the 'what ifs' that could happen to them. Those black sheep are completely rational. However, once in a while, you get a particularly defective, 'ill' black sheep who is either so desperate or so stupid that it doesn't even consider what the outcome of its actions may bring. Now," the General paused, his expression becoming stoic, "those types of sheep are dangerous and the shepherds slaughter them to protect the rest of the herd. Because, otherwise, the entire herd will become infected with the ill sheeps diseases and everything will come crumbling down. Why not sacrifice the happiness of a single sick sheep for the happiness of all of the herd?"

Harrietser listened with stiffness as the adolescent rattled on and on, unsure of whether to feel pity, spite, fear, or anger towards him. Harrietser actually considered letting loose a loud yawn The officer could tell by the way the adolescent's speech was going, however, that the boy would decline his offer and inform the authorities above him about his "treason", so feeling fear would probably be the correct route. Harrietser quietly cursed himself for acting on a sudden bout of intense emotion and rushing desperately for the General's aid.

"But…"

Harrietser wasn't sure if his ears were working properly, because it sounded as if…

"It's no fun if the good, little herd gets a happy ending," the General grinned as he rose from his perch and extended his hand towards Harrietser, "so I'll take you up on your proposal."

The officer glanced at the white-gloved hand extended out towards him warily. It angered him how trapped he was in his situation. If he went to the authorities about the true nature of this particular General, he would have to risk the possible outcome of the said authorities not believing him; if that ending was reached, the General would most likely put him on the walking plank and accuse him — with much exaggeration used — of attempting to make a treasonous deal. If the officer went along with the General, he would have to risk the said General completely and utterly screwing him over. And the third option…?

Before Harrietser could stop himself, he reached his hand out to meet the General's own.

"On one condition of course…"

Harrietser stopped and began to pull his hand away as his thick eyebrows furrowed. The General, however, reached forward instead and wrapped his thin fingers around Harrietser's callused ones.

"But it wouldn't be fun, if I told you what it was right at this moment now, would it?"

Before Harrietser could protest, the General abruptly released his iron grasp and turned towards the closed doors of his office with narrowed eyes. With a seemingly inhuman pace, the adolescent walked up to the oak doors and threw them open. A large gust of cool wind filtered through the room at its opening, knocking several papers that were on the General's desk onto the ground.

On the other side of the door Mr. Harrietser saw a girl standing, a girl whom he had never seen before.

* * *

[**Capital City, Military District - unknown hallway**]

The blonde, slender, and undoubtedly beautiful adolescent was in a confused state. Only seconds ago, she had been leaning against one of the doors leading to the Second General's office; now she was standing in the dark hallway of some corridor with the arms of an unknown someone wrapped around her waist and mouth.

She was quite sure that that unknown someone meant to do her harm, so without a second thought she lifted her high-heeled left foot up and slammed it down hard against that someone's own left foot.

"Ow! Lindsay!"

"Tyler?"

The girl, Lindsay, whipped her head around and found herself staring at a very familiar face. A young man dressed in a button-up suit stood before her. The man, albeit being handsome, seemed to have little to no fashion sense: a red and white sweatband adorned his dark brown head, despite the fact that not a single article of clothing on him was also red.

"What are you doing here, Lindsay?!" the adolescent shouted in a surprised whisper as he rubbed his sore foot.

"Oh my gosh, Tyler," the girl spoke with a nervous laughter, following a completely different trail of thought, "I _so _didn't know that it was you!" She folded her hands in front of her and swung her body shyly from side to side, a mild blush crawling up her well-tanned face, "Sorry…"

"Aw," the strangely dressed adolescent, Tyler, muttered, also blushing as he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, "It's all good, Lindsay." He paused with a cough, rolling his shoulders and subtly flexing his arms. "I'm tough. It'll take more than that to hurt me!"

The blonde giggled, tucking a lock of her bright hair behind her ear.

"Anyways," Tyler continued; he straightened himself up and gestured towards the corner they had turned moments before, "that was the Second General's door you were just at! If you were caught, you'd be in so much trouble!"

"Wait," Lindsay frowned as she raised a slender eyebrow and tapped her chin, "what's a 'Second General'? Isn't that like a store or something?"

"No, he's this really scary dude who leads, like, a third of the Empire's army!"

"Oh… that's a lot, right?"

"Yes!" Tyler replied, practically ecstatic. He sighed and rubbed the back of his head, "I'm just glad you didn't get caught." He paused suddenly and frowned as if realizing something: "Wait, Lindsay, did you sneak up here 'cause you wanted to congratulate me on graduating from the Empire Militia Academy?"

"Uhm…" Lindsay tapped her chin lightly and raised a slight eyebrow. "Yes….?"

Tyler's head then snapped up suddenly as if he had realized something important; he dug into his suit pocket and pulled out a red box and a slip of plastic. He handed both items to the blonde with a shy smile. "I got you these things; I thought you'd like them."

The blonde looked the objects over, her blue eyes brightening as she realized exactly what the held objects were. The red box contained a pair of deep-blue earrings, and the slip of paper read: "Justin Justin: 1 person ticket".

"Oh my gosh!" Lindsay shouted as she clapped her hands in joy and jumped up and down multipe times. "These are amazing!"

"The earrings are replicas of the ones that one actress, Dakota, wears." Tyler explained. "And I overheard that you wanted to go to a Justin Justin concert, so…"

"Thank you, Tyler! You are, like, so amazing!"

Much to the young man's surprise, the girl leapt towards him and wrapped her slender arms around his neck, hugging him in a tight embrace. She released him after several minutes, and for several more moments they stared at each other whilst holding eachother at arm's length. Something on the ground, however, caught Lindsay's eye.

Bending down to the ground, she picked up a slender card, much like the one she had been talking into earlier.

"Is this a Cell Card?"

She held it up to the light and saw that the frontside of the card was completely blank. She turned it over, and instead of seeing a communication company's logo printed on it, she saw a strange triangle with a sideways eight inside of it.

"I think its broken…"

Before she could say anything further about the card, it was quickly snatched out of her hands by Tyler, who nervously shoved it into his suit pocket.

"It's mine!" he said quickly. "It must have slipped out earlier when I wasn't looking." He swallowed oddly and grabbed her by the shoulder. "You better get out of here before anyone finds you — I'll keep a look out to see if anyone's coming." He gestured to the opposite end of the hall from where they came, "The exit is that way. Take the stairs."

Without realizing what was happening, Lindsay soon found herself standing outside of the gates leading to the Military District.

* * *

[**Capital City, Military District - Second General's Office**]

"Izzy, what are you doing here?"

"I came to give you some cake I stole, silly! Apparently it was made for the military graduation that's happening today, which reminds me: we need to get the reception hall to welcome our new platoon newbies! Oh my gosh. I am, like, so totally excited—-oh! You have a friend! Hi!"

The First General had continued to rattle on and on without realizing that the Second General, Mal, was not her only audience. By the time she finally realized that fact, the awkward extra was already attempting to slide past the two Generals. She, being the impulsive and sporadic person that she was, stopped him immediately with a happy grin.

"Hiya, fella!" she greeted, patting the awkwardly close middle-aged man on the shoulder. "What's your name?"

"Deputy Commissioner Military Police Officer Damien Harrietser, sir!" the man introduced himself with a weak salute.

"Oh, my gosh. That is a really long-sounding rank thingy!" the Second General gawked, before turning abruptly to her pronounced "best-friend" Mal. "I want a really long-sounding rank thingy! I want it to sound more cool and ninja-like though… Maybe something like Super-Ninja-Commando-Awesome-Supreme Explosivo Sinclair!"

"You're dismissed, Mr. Harrietser." Mal nodded calmly at the police officer, completely ignoring the ginger-haired General's long string of words.

The man gave him a strange look but chose to exit the office without saying another word. The two Generals watched his departure in silence.

When the officer was finally out of their sight, Izzy immediately shoved a plateful of cake in front of Mal's face.

"Come on, Mally! I know you want some!"

"You know I despise sweet things." the Second General muttered, pushing the plate of cake away from his face with a grimace. He then reached over the extended cake plate and dug his hands into Izzy's breast pocket. After a moment of prodding, he pulled out a rectangular box.

The box was worn and torn. The faded print on its surface read: "Enchanted Cigarettes - Light 'em with a Shake!"

Mal flicked the box open and popped out a white-colored cigarette no larger than his index finger. He pulled the cigarette out and shook it once with his free hand. The tip of it immediately sparked with life.

"Cigarettes aren't good for you, you know. They be givin' you lung cancer!"

"Says the one who carries a big box of cigarettes with them everywhere." Mal retorted, taking a long drag of smoke and blowing it out slowly into the stale air.

"Izzy carries them because Izzy loves fire!"

"Pyromaniac."

"Izzy and Mal should go meet up with Eva for the initiation ceremony!"

"Why not? This ceremony in particular seems like it'll be exciting."

With those words being said, Izzy, with one hand holding up a handful of cake and the other hooked around Mal's arm, dragged both herself and Mal down towards the reception hall.

* * *

[**Capital City, Sylvester's Academy for the Gifted**]

She was living in a country of sheep. She knew that perfectly well. She also knew that she, unlike the dolting twenty that surrounded her, was not one of those said sheep. She was a shepherd; she was a guide; she was a queen.

School had always been like a kingdom to her — a kingdom that she was destined to rule, that is. This specialized academy was no different. She was a queen here; she was a queen, in fact, everywhere.

She always knew everything that was going on and everyone was at the palm of her hands. The twenty students seated around her chatting amicably with each other while the teacher was still out were simply pawns. It was just a game afterall.

"Hey, Heather!" came a panting breath. "I did what you asked perfectly, right?"

The self-pronounced queen, Heather, turned her head ever so slightly and saw a head of bright, blonde hair slide into the seat next to her.

"Lindsay: one, what took you so long? And two, where is your uniform?"

Lindsay was the only one within the room who was not clad in a white blouse, a black tie, a black vest, and black pants or a black skirt. She, in fact, looked like she had just gotten out of bed. This fact, however, did not in the least bit mar her beauty.

"Oh," the blonde gasped in surprise, as she surveyed her lanky attire, "I totally forgot to change into my uniform after I snuck into the Milit—-oof!"

She was silenced by a jab in the ribcage courtesy of Heather.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Shut it, Lindsay!"

"Yeesh…"

"I need to figure out what's really going on in this place." Heather muttered, crossing both her arms and legs. "Isn't your boyfriend enlisted in that one fancy academy funded by the District?"

"Oh, Tyler and I aren't official yet." Lindsay answered, her face becoming red; she shifted back and forth in her seat, her mind obviously elsewhere. "He's _so_ sweet though! He got me these really pretty earrings and a ticket to the Justin Justin concert!"

"Well," Heather rolled her eyes with much flamboyancy, "that's great. Is he any good at the academy?" She turned towards the blonde fully. "You need to somehow get him to leak information to you. Sweet talk him."

"'Sweet talk'?" Lindsay frowned, tilting her bright head. "You mean bribe him with candy? I don't think he likes candy much… I might be able to bribe him with protein bars or something, though…"

"That's not what I mean!" Heather grimaced. "You need to—

The door to the classroom swung open, preventing her from speaking any further.

A wiry old man entered the classroom and walked straight over to the desk placed in the front of the room. The entire class fell into silence.

"In light of the graduation and initiation of those enrolled in the Empire Militia Academy," the old man, the class's renowned professor, began, "we have a special speaker presenting for us today. He is the son of the Secretary of Diplomacy. Everyone please give around of applause for Alejandro Burrosmuerto."

Everyone within the room, save for the "Queen Bee" herself, applauded loudly as the door to the classroom opened again and a new face entered the room. This particular face was a very attractive and charming one; it was so charming, in fact, that practically all of the female and some of the male students were wooing over it.

"Hello, everyone." the surprise speaker, Alejandro, grinned to the class as he walked up behind the desk. "It's nice to meet you all."

Heather could tell from her high seat at that very instant that the man before her was dangerous — formidable. She could see through his thick disguise — she didn't want to admit that she was slightly charmed by said disguise — and saw that he was sly snake. Just by seeing the way he smothered the her classmates under his gaze, she could tell that he was extremely charismatic and manipulative.

"Oh, wow, Heather he's so…"

She jabbed Lindsay in the rib cage once more to silence her. She sent the blonde a warning glare and shook her head once. When she finally returned her gaze to the front of the classroom, she found that — with much surprise and slight embarrassment — that the diplomat's son's olive-green gaze now rested on her and her alone.

Heather sat their flustered for a moment, finding herself mesmerized by the young man's gaze. When that moment passed, however, she quickly shook herself free of any affectionate feeling and sent him a stone cold glare. This glare evidently took Alejandro by surprise, because he stared at her in stupor for a moment before an amused and challenging smile spread across his face.

"As many of you may know," Alejandro began, dragging his eyes away from Heather's face, "today is the day in which students at the Empire Militia Academy graduate... Why is this such an important event? It's not really, yet it is at the same time. This day expresses our nationalistic pride in our country. Over fifty years ago, we established ourselves as a country and have maintained our independence since then. Of course, since we are such an infant country, we are subject to many rebellions, better known as 'terroristic attacks'. To keep our country from falling apart and being taken over by other surrounding countries, we must really on both our Council and our military. Without our military, we would surely have a hard time protecting ourselves, would we not? We would have to constantly worry about being attacked and we would have to store weapons in our homes. With all honesty, we probably would have enslaved mana-users in a similar fashion to how several other countries have, if we did not have the military protecting us. The military is one of our many prides; it's one of many symbols of our nationalism. For that reason we hold an annual country-wide celebration in honor of the Empire Militia Academy's graduates."

"Woah," Lindsay whispered under her breath, "I have no idea what he just said, but his voice is so amazing that I can't help but listen to it!"

Heather rolled her eyes at this statement and met Alejandro's gaze as it swept across the entire classroom once more. She then forcefully held his gaze against her own. They gazed at each other intensely, daring the other mentally to back down and avert their gaze. The stare-down thus became a competition for dominance.

"Is that all, Mr. Burrosmuerto?" came the croaky voice of the professor from his perch on one of the wooden seats placed at the front of the room.

Alejandro did not avert his gaze to acknowledge that he had heard the professor and neither did Heather.

"Mr. Burrosmuerto?"

In unison, both Heather's and Alejandro's gazes drifted towards the professor, and they both finally acknowledged his presence in the classroom.

"My apologies, professor." Alejandro finally answered, bowing his head ever so slightly. He turned towards the entire classroom and grinned in an aesthetically pleasing manner. "Yes, I am finished; I thank all of you," he glanced at Heather, "for listening."

* * *

[**Capital City, unknown office**]

- She had to look perfect. -

The young woman brushed her dark-brown hair for the upteempth time that day and stared deeply at her reflection.

- No, she had to _be_ perfect. -

Sighing, the young woman watched as her reflection mimicked her movements of smoothing out her clothing and reapplying her make-up. Her reflection took in a deep breath and released in a slow and calm fashion before briefly winking at her.

"Miss Courtney, are you ready?"

The woman turned, batted her dark and long eyelashes, and nodded curtly:

"Of course, I am."

"Right this way then, Miss Courtney."

The young woman stood and followed her addressor out of her preparation room and into a brightly lit hallway. The hall was decorated in a glorious range of colors that melded perfectly together with the cream-tiled flooring.

"Is the dinner party set?"

"Yes, Miss Courtney."

"Sterling-silver silverware and gold-rimmed plates?"

"Already set out, Miss Courtney."

"Correct number of seats and extras placed symmetrically on both sides?"

"All seats are placed correctly, Miss Courtney."

"Are all the flags in the streets colored in the pattern of the Empire flag for the parade?"

"Yes, Miss Courtney."

"Uhm, how about—

"Everything is perfect, Miss Courtney."

For the first time in a long while, Courtney Suthers found herself truly smiling.

* * *

[**Military District, Empire Militia Academy - Boy's Locker Room**]

The young man rubbed his hands nervously together, feeling extremely uncomfortable in his stiff black uniform. The sounds of metal slamming against metal and the squeak of rubber against marble seemed to make him all the more nervous.

All around him young men in uniforms identical to his were shifting around, smoothing out the creases of their outfits and slicking back their matted hairs. One young man in particular was hogging the largest mirror in the room.

"Lighting," called one of the uniformed adolescents, "hurry up! You're taking up all of the locker room space with that gigantic ego of yours!"

"Sha-Lightning needs his sha-Lightning time!"

Several groans echoed loudly throughout the area.

"Anyways," the egoistical adolescent continued, not even attempting to turn away from the mirror before him, "where's that Jo at? Haven't see him all day!"

"She's in the girl's locker room." Brick answered from his seat on the bench, as he continued to rub his calloused hands together.

"Sha-what?!" Lightning gaped; he turned fully around and stared at the militant adolescent who had spoken. "How did he sha-manage that?! That guy is sha-lucky!"

"Lighting," Brick replied slowly with a raised eyebrow, "you do realize that Jo is a girl, right?"

Lightning rolled his eyes and crossed his arms at the question: "I'm not sha-stupid enough to believe that he's a girl!"

This statement, for some odd undefinable reason, seemed to anger Brick; and the man rose, walked right over to the egotistical adolescent, and crossed his own arms, saying, "Listen here—-"

A loud and melodical chiming noise cut Brick off short. It was as if the chiming noise had some mysterious power over everyone within the room, because as soon as the sound rang clear everyone fell silent. Their silence to increase the tension within the room; and for a singular instant, all of their minds came together and drew up a singular thought:

"It's time."

* * *

[**Capital City, in front of the Military District**]

The streets of Capital City were filled with cheering crowds that lined the sidewalk and floating multicolored balloons that soared through the open blue sky like free birds. Crowds also lined the tops of buildings and the edges of windows, all of whom were peering down onto the empty street, pure anticipation gleaming in their eyes. Excitement was in the air; the very emotion was actually at its boiling point.

Suddenly, from around a street corner, the sound of marching could be heard. The loud thumps and clops echoed throughout the buzzing air, causing all mouths to close and all heads to turn in anticipation.

The streets seemed to vibrate and the little pieces of rubble on top of them jumped up and down and slide side to side.

The marching droned on in the otherwise completely silent area, and then a single tune rang clear: a loud and blaring trumpet.

From around the corner, men and woman clad in black uniforms filtered through the streets, filing by in three by four groups. Those standing on the sidewalks immediately bursted out into cheers. Confetti rained from the sky, seemingly out of nowhere; trumpets blared loudly; flowers from the crowd were thrown onto the streets, raining petals throughout the area.

Suddenly, a feminine voice blared from the speakers lining the buildings behind the sidwalks:

"Welcome to the annual Empire Militia Academy graduation celebration!"

The screams and cheers intensified; and those on the sidelines who had remained silent began to cheer loudly as well, ushered by pure mob hysteria. It seemed as if the entire city was about to explode with excitement.

Names were shouted from the crowd as familiar faces passed them by on the street:

"Oh my gosh, Tyler! You look so hot!"

"Go, Annie! Woooh!"

"I'm proud of you, Brick; I am proud!"

"You've got this, Armin!"

"Go, Jo!"

"Woooooooh!"

The line of uniformed men and woman filed down the streets, smiles lighting each and everyone of their faces. They, nervous when they first began their march down the streets, were motivated by the cheers around them and lifted their chins up high. Down they marched, grinning ear to ear.

At the end of the street there was an opening that led to a large and open area. A great white platformed stage was set out in that area, and surrounding that stage was a plethora of fancy leather seats.

The uniformed students, in a smooth and quick pattern, filtered into the open area and took their seemingly assigned seats. The crowd behind them followed them into the area as well, lining the very edges of the open area and forming a thick circle.

The shouts that had previously filled the area had died down into quieted whispers. Despite this fact, excitement still rung clear in the air.

The whispers quickly faded away as well, however, as a well-toned woman who had previously been sitting on one of the front seats made her way onto the white platform. The woman was dressed in a dark purple suit with a dress skirt. Her dark brown hair was parted to the side, save for a single, stubborn strand that refused to stick with the rest.

The woman approached the microphoned stand placed at the center of the platform and looked regally out into the crowd. She breathed in deeply and let out quiet, slow breath:

"Hello, Capital City."

Shouts and cheers erupted wildly once more. The sounds continued for several more moments, until a change in atmosphere caused them to die away.

"It has been forty-four years since the Empire Militia Academy was established." The woman continued in a strict and professional manner. "It has been our national pride for just as long."

More cheers; a couple of whistles.

"This year we have a stunning number of twenty students graduating." she spoke over the cheers. "All of these students have been specifically selected to attend this academy due to their unique and outstanding abilities."

Excited whispers.

"Some of these students will become military police officers, while others will join the Empire's army as elite soldiers—

"Sha-what?! 'Soldiers'? My pa told me this was football camp!"

"Others," the woman spoke loudly, irritation weavings its way into her voice, "will be specially selected and placed into our Generals' platoons."

Gasps of awe.

"These individuals have excelled in all of their classes and have proven themselves worthy to hold a high position in the Empire. I will announce who these individuals are after every student receives his or her diploma; and they are to report to the Principal Tower of the Military District after the proceedings."

There was pause of silence; it was a perfect pause that heightened the tenseness of the atmosphere.

"Now, for the moment you all have been waiting for!" the woman finally continued. "When I announce your name, students, please come up to the stage to receive your diplomas!"

Name after name was called, and each individual addressed received their diplomas with glee. Some of them even made heart-wrenching speeches that brought tears to many eyes. After a full fifty-five minutes, all twenty students were sitting in their seats smiling ear to ear and holding scrolls of white paper in their hands.

The brown-haired woman who had steadily been handing out the diplomas from the side of the stage retook her position at the podium and grinned in a professional manner at the crowd.

"I will now announce the select few who have been recommended for the Generals' platoons… When I say your name, please report immediately to the Military District where a guide will escort you to the Principal Tower."

The woman then pulled out a sealed manila envelope. She gently tore it open and pulled out its contents: a tri-folded slip of paper. Unfolding it slowly as to increase the anticipation of those watching, the woman looked out to the crowd.

"Lightning Brigingham…"

The egoistical adolescent shot up from his seat with a victorious shout and ran towards the gates behind the set-up stage leading to the Military District.

"Sha-woohoo!"

"Annie Catherine…."

A petite woman stood and followed the young man who had been called before her to the gates.

"Jo Cannister."

With a smirk, the addressed young woman stood confidently up from her seat and jogged towards the direction of the gates.

"Tomas Dill."

A muscular man rose, flexed, and made his way towards the gates.

"...and Brick Jonavick."

The addressed adolescent rose, saluted the woman with a toothy smile, and followed the others in their sprint towards the gate.

"Congratulations." the woman finished, folding up the slip of paper. "I hope you serve our country well."

* * *

[**Military District, Principal Tower - Reception Hall**]

The only people to have ever entered the Principal Tower in the Military District of Capital City were either entitled Council members, the Generals themselves, or members of the Generalsl platoons. Security was tight around the premises, so rarely any outsider made it in without getting caught.

On the second highest floor of the tower were the Generals' offices. At the very top of the tower was the meeting room where conferences would constantly be held. The importance of the floor declined the lower the floor was. At the very bottom of the tower was the reception hall, where the specially chosen five graduates of the Empire Militia Academy currently found themselves.

The reception hall was admittedly pretty and grand despite the fact that it was the least important room of the tower. A long and red carpet was ras rolled out onto the ground, connecting the entrance of the reception hall to a split staircase that led to the rest of the tower. Behind the staircase was a large an open window that overlooked the training grounds. Above the window there was a beautiful arch that ribboned across the room, giving the entire area a regal atmosphere.

"Wow." one of the graduates, Jo, muttered under her breath as she placed her hands on her hips and glanced upwards to the high ceiling — it was so high that it was somewhat dizzying to look at. "This place is actually really… nice."

The other graduates followed suite and began to make several gratifying comments about the room.

"Sha-Lightning could get use to this!"

"I congratulate you all on being recommended to the Generals platoon." another one of graduates, Brick, said with a warm smile. "All of your soldiers deserve it!"

Jo was a retort with a sassy comment, but was interrupted by the comment of another person:

"Where are these so called 'Generals' anyways?"

The asker of the question was the graduate named Tomas Dill, who was the only one who looked mildly displeased with the unfolding events. However, the same question also lingered on the other four's minds as well. Their escort had taken them to the door of the tower, but had not gone any further than that. He had simply told them to wait until the Generals received them.

Suddenly, the strong scent of strawberry cake intermingled with cigarette smoke and sweat filtered into the otherwise fresh smelling air. The sound of soft clopping then followed.

The five selected graduates turned their heads towards the staircase where three distinct figures now stood.

Two of the figures were females, leaving a singular male standing at the center. The female figure standing on the left had wild ginger hair that fell behind her bag in large curls. She had smiling emerald eyes and a slender face. In her hands she held a plate of strawberry cake which she was currently shoving into her mouth via fork.

The singular male figure had a head of dark brown — almost black hair — that fell over his right eye in sheets. He had dark, tanned skin and a surprisingly thin figure. In his one extended hand was a cigarette that was currently streaming out a line of smoke.

The female who stood to the right had a muscular and toned figure compared to the others. Her skin was lightly tanned; and her dark amber eyes seemed to pierce through everything within the room. Her dark hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail that swung back and forth, as she continuously lifted a large black weight with her left hand. Hidden behind that black hair of hers appeared to be silver headphones that seemed to be connected to nothing.

The only thing the three had in common were their jet black uniforms and caps lined with gold.

"Oooh!" the ginger General finally spoke, shoving another mouthful of cake into her mouth. "Hiya, kiddies!"

The five graduates stared at her strangely. All of them had pictured the Generals as being regal, yet strong and powerful figures. They had heard rumors of the Generals being blood-thirsty warriors, but had also heard rumors about them being professional and well-mannered. The sight before them contradicted both rumors.

The ginger General, not noticing the strange looks she was receiving, hopped (quite literally) down the stairs and walked right up to the five former students. She leaned towards them and observed their features with scrutiny, not noticing how uncomfortably close she was to them. Taking a step backwards, she began individual pointing to each and every one of them.

"Eeny, meeny, miny, moe!" she shouted loudly as her finger drifted across the five's surprised faces. "Catch a tiger by the toe! If he hollers, let him go! Eeny, meeny, miny, moe!"

Her finger landed on Brick's face who, and the boy raised his eyebrows.

"I choose you!" the ginger shouted loudly with a happy grin; she paused suddenly as if remembering something, before she thrusted the plate of cake in his face. "You should, like, totally try some of this cake! It is sooooo delish! It kind of reminds me of the cake they used to serve at this one place. It was soooo good. Some people got really bad stomach aches from it though…" She trailed off, obviously lost in thought.

"You have got to be kiddin' me! These sorry nutjobs are the Generals?" Tomas, who had been observing everything with a shocked expression, growled. "This has to be a joke—

The adolescent was cut off short, as a knee found its way to his gut. Doubling over, Tomas gagged and fell to the ground; as he panted for breath, he found his gaze travelling up to his attacker: the smoking General.

"Know your place," the dark-haired General smirked, as he blew a puff of smoke right into his face, "peon."

The four graduates stood still in utter shock. Sure, their instructors back at the academy had gotten violent with them sometimes, but it was never to this extent. This had to be illegal or something.

The ginger General gave the smoking General are disapproving glare, as did the toned General who stood back watching everything unfold. The toned General, however, did smirk a little as she saw tears form in Tomas's eyes.

The ginger General with the help of Brick and Annie helped Tomas to his feet. The injured boy rubbed his stomach with a grimace and averted his gaze to the ground. Brick patted him on the back and stood by his side.

"Now, which one of you is Lightning Brigingham?" the smoking General questioned with a bored look.

"That'd be sha-me!" answered the egotistical adolescent, completely undeterred by the events that had just unfolded.

"I'm General Mal Strauss," the General introduced without blinking an eye as he took another drag of his cigarette. "You will be serving under me in my platoon."

"Sha-awesome!" Lightning grinned as he threw up his muscular arms.

"Follow me, then." the General ordered as he turned and headed up the stairs. "We're going to be heading out right away."

A look of mild hesitation flickered in Lightning eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came; and he followed the General up the stairs.

The remaining four let out quiet sighs, happy that they weren't selected to be in the smoking General's platoon. They hoped that the other Generals were slightly less violent.

The toned female General who had been standing back and lifting weights brushed past the ginger General who was still munching on bits of cake. She gestured to Annie, then at Tomas with a completely stolid expression:

"The name is General Eva Dickinson. You two are with me; interrupt me when I'm talking or listening to my music and you're dead. Got it?!"

The two addressed graduates nodded briskly and followed Eva up the regal steps.

The two remaining graduates, Brick and Jo, glanced at each other warily. Their gazes moved up to the remaining General's face. She smiled back at them and wrapped her arms around both of their shoulders. The cake which she held in her left hand was uncomfortably close to Jo's face.

"I be General Izzy Sinclair!" the General announced loudly to both of them. "You can call me Explosivo, Brainzilla, E-Scope, or Esquire though. I kinda like those names better actually!"

Brick and Jo raised eyebrows at each other.

"I have a really, really, really good feeling that we're going to have a really good time together!"

* * *

[**Capital City, random street corner**]

The boy adjusted his red headband with a heavy sigh as he leaned against the wall in a dark street corner. Digging into his suit pocket, he pulled out a slender card. The card was blank on the front, but had a strange symbol etched onto its back.

He shook the card once and the image of ginger-haired glasses-wearing man appeared on the blank side of the card.

"Harold," the boy spoke, "I have some bad news."

* * *

**A/N:** Holy fudgenuggets! This week sucked like Odin's beard! I took the first half of my AP semester exam, and I barely passed. /sobs. And then I had to take ANOTHER AP test. IT was freakin' tears of blood. At least the Doctor Who 50th anniversary episode showed today! Huzzah! I was intensely fangirling, btw. I'll probably be able to update multiple times next week because of Thanksgiving Break... So huzzah again!

Thank you for the reviews! I kinda smiled stupidly and buried my head in my hands everytime I read one. XD

Anyways, here is another chappie! It's actually pretty long...There is also a new chapter cover! Your choice of Mal agreeing to proposal will actually affect the story greatly!

So what did you think?

In the next chapter, the hunt begins!

Reader's Choice:

Should the rebel group...

A. Rest up and gather supplies once they reach Citadel

B. Depart from Citadel immediately


	4. It's Sort of Awkward

- 3 -

Route x AA

* * *

"_If you're lonely…"_

* * *

[**Citadel, unknown location**]

To the boy, the world was frozen in place — never changing, never moving, nothing; it was complete stillness.

Everyday he would see the same two hoodlums jump over an old fence that stood stationary in the middle of an empty field as he exited his school building. The duo would always look up at him in acknowledgement, but they would never interact.

Such was their daily routine.

The boy's entire day — his entire life — was set on repeat.

He would wake up exactly as his clock read six-thirty — no later and no less — every single day, and he would fumble out of his house, tripping over the same bump in the curve at exactly six-forty-five. He would then run to school at his usual pace and enter the school building, always as the clock struck seven. Right when the clock struck three, he'd exit the school building, watch the duo jump over the fence, and trot on back to his home.

Always; always; always; everything was always the same.

Perhaps, the boy had supposed once, if he interacted more with the people around him, his life would change a bit. But the people of the boy's town — at least those who rode on the surface — were perfectly content with their world that was set on an endless repeat.

Maybe that was the reason why the boy was practically ecstatic instead of fearful when that group of six rolled out of his closet door.

* * *

[**Schaffer Port**]

The tea leaves of the evening had told the girl that she was to meet an old and familiar soul that day. They had also told her that if she stayed any longer in the seaside town in which she was currently residing — Schaffer Port — she would be in danger.

The girl was now sitting by the seashore contemplating her possible actions.

The soft saline breeze that drifted across the sandy canopy fought off the blaring sun that rose above her faded silvery, blonde hair; the thick, wafting sea tickled at her toes. And as she shifted her small hands through the grainy sand, the tips of her fingers brushed up against a smooth surface.

The girl dug deeper.

A seashell — one to add to her collection.

Above her the seagulls cawed; and the girl briefly wondered if she could ever be that free.

Picking herself up off the ground and placing the found seashell in her black satchel in one, fluid, and graceful motion, the girl turned towards the small town and walked.

* * *

[**Unknown Location**]

"Uhm," the redhead peered at the glowing door curiously, "how is this supposed to work exactly?"

The door which she was currently eyeing had, only a few moments ago, been just a regular, old, wooden door that had happened to lead to any empty black hole. Now the door was coated in a green, glass-like substance that gave off an ethereal glow.

"We go out this door," came the sassy reply of the green-haired delinquent who currently happened to be shoving several sharp looking items into a sack, "and we walk into Citadel. Poof. Magic!"

Zoey eyed the door again, before she glanced back at her shorter friend. The boy simply shrugged in turn:

"It has to do with dimensional physics, but there's not a lot information about it yet."

"Oh!" another taller girl, Sierra namely, interjected on a completely different note with a bright smile as she slung a small knapsack over her shoulder. "Are you guys subscribed to the Mana-former's Weekly? They have a bunch of info about—

"Mana-related sciences!" Cameron finished, eyes brightening. "You've read about them?"

"I have an entire article about it in my newspaper!" Sierra replied, jumping up and down ecstatically.

"Haha… Woah, that's pretty cool. Didn't they do a review about that new mana-fueled gaming platform?"

This remark came from another adolescent — the brown-haired one — who so happened to be shoving several strange-looking books, each of them appearing to have what appeared to be a different colored dragons on their covers.

"Oh, yeah!" Sierra replied; she nodded her head vigorously up and down. "I totes wrote an article about that one too!"

"I've actually never heard about Mana-former's Weekly before." Zoey informed them with a shy, embarrassed kind of laugh. "The only newspaper that circulated in my town were just about the things going on in our community..."

"Aw," Cameron frowned sympathetically, "you could always borrow some of my issues; they're really cool!"

"Yeah! You can borrow some of mine too, Zoey! I have, like, a thousand copies of each magazine article with me!"

"That's great, nerds." Duncan interrupted as he brushed right in-between their conversing group.

The four new recruits watched as the delinquent approached Gwen who had been sitting cross-legged on the leather sofa, one hand extended towards the glowing door and the other pinching the bridge of her nose.

"How's it going, Gwen?"

"Evidently not so good." She grimaced, glancing up at his face from the corner of her eyes. "The portal I opened up at Citadel must've been moved or tampered with or something; I'm not sure if the portal actually leads to Citadel anymore!"

Cameron, overhearing this, walked over to the distressing duo whilst tapping his chin thoughtfully: "Gwen, can I ask you something?"

She sent him a weak glare, but nodded.

"Do you happen to imbed your mana into actual doors when you're creating portals?"

She nodded again but this time with a curious and raised eyebrow.

"There's a high possibility that someone may have moved that door to a different location." Cameron suggested. "But, since you binded your mana to the door, I doubt that it could be moved very far."

"You sure about that, bubbleboy?" Duncan questioned with narrowed eyes; he held up a threatening fist and grabbed the boy by the color of his shirt. "'Cause if we go through that door and up in some weird desert, you're gonna pay."

Cameron gulped.

"Hey, let him go!" Zoey protested from the sidelines.

"Yeah, let Cameron go, you meanie!"

Sam nodded vigorously in agreement.

"Let him go, Duncan." Gwen muttered, crossing his arms.

"What? I was only playin'." The delinquent grinned cockily as he shamelessly released his grip on the boy and gave a simple shrug. He jerked his thumb towards the still glowing door, "So we gonna try this door out or what?"

"I dunno," Sam interjected with a half-hearted chuckle, "I mean, the door could be in a dumpster somewhere in Citadel… It'd be pretty nasty if we ended up there…"

"It _would_ be kind of gross," Zoey agreed, lightly tapping her chin.

"Hey, newbies don't get to decide."

With that, the delinquent grabbed both Sam and Cameron by the back of their collars. kicked the glowing door open and prepared to throw the two out into the strange-looking room that had been hidden behind the door.

"Duncan, wait!" came an angry call from Gwen. The pale adolescent shot up from her seat in protest and made her way over to the open doorway.

Unfortunately, she hadn't noticed the array of magazines that had been scattered all over the floor. Due to that simple mistake, she found herself slipping forward; and out of pure instinct, she grabbed the closest thing next to her — and that thing just so happened to be a surprised looking redhead.

Zoey let out a surprised yelp as she lost her balanced; and she too out of pure instinct reached out, grabbing a hold of Duncan's longcoat in attempt to break her fall.

The delinquent's entire body was jerked back by the two girls' combined weights. The two he currently held in his grips grasped at the opposite sides of the open door frame in an attempt to keep both themselves and Duncan from falling.

"Woah! What the hell?!" Duncan shouted back. "Let go! You're practically on the ground already."

"I'm so sorry!" But the grip did not give.

The delinquent began to fall backwards even more, causing him to strengthen his grip on the two who were clinging onto the doorframe; the door-clinging duo's eyes were literally bulging out of their eyes as the fronts of their collars dug into their necks. In unison, they both pulled forward — and in a movement that defied all physics — they found themselves flying forwards out of the door with the other three tagging along behind them.

Sierra who had been nonchalantly watching them with a raised eyebrow ran forward and jumped out of the door with a wide grin, shouting: "Wait for me!"

On her way out of the door, she grabbed the doorknob and swung the entire thing to a close. Seconds later she found herself lying on top of a pile of the five other adolescents.

The five adolescents sent each other demeaning looks, before all six paused and all burst out into laughter. Their bright and lively atmosphere was sliced in half by a single squeakily-voiced question:

"Who the heck are you people?!"

The six glanced upwards and found themselves staring at a brown-haired, baby-faced adolescent who was standing on top of a stool pointing a pair of safety scissors at them.

* * *

[**Schaffer Port**]

The airy girl walked the practically empty town streets, holding her black knapsack loosely in her hands. The citizens who were actually wandering the streets whispered worriedly amongst themselves.

The girl could tell by looking at their spiking auras that they were intensely fearful and anxious about something. Curious, she walked up to a conversing couple with a tilted head:

"Excuse me, I couldn't help noticing that your auras are spiking unusually high today. May I ask why?"

They looked at her strangely, but the girl was used to that.

"You mean you haven't heard?" one of the questioned with a surprised blink. "One of the Generals is coming to town today!"

"Yeah," continued the other, "he's apparently hunting down the new rebel group that has popped up recently. The General is coming here first because of that incident yesterday..."

"Damn rebels. Causing all of this trouble for us… Terrorists, more like it!"

The couple then turned both of their gazes towards the petite girl and gave her a good looking over.

"Aren't you that girl that police officer was making a big deal about yesterday?"

"Yeah, the one accused of bein' a mana-user?"

"You best beat it, little girl, if you're not registered; you might end up minced."

"Yeah, well we didn't see you today at all; we didn't see a thing."

"Not a thing."

With that the couple swiftly turned heel and ran, leaving the small girl standing all alone with a slender raised eyebrow.

* * *

[**Citadel, unknown location**]

The duo moved quickly.

In less than ten seconds, both Gwen and Duncan were on top of the scissors-wielding boy. They had snapped to their feet, rushed over to where the boy stood, pushed him off of his perch, and now had him pinned down onto his bed. The boy scissors were laying uselessly on the ground.

"If you even whimper, you're dead." Duncan threatened, as he pressed his hand harder onto the boy's mouth. "Got it?"

The boy nodded, but his attention seemed to be focused elsewhere — namely on Gwen.

The pale adolescent was currently hovering above his face, turquoise strands of her hair brushing lightly against his face; her slender fingers held his arm and his shoulder in a tight death grip, and her black fingernails dug into his skin.

"Woah, guys," Sam shouted in surprise as he walked over to the bed-occupying trio, "those were some pretty cool ninja moves, but could you give the guy a break? He looks kind of harmless."

"Yeah," Zoey agreed as she approached as well; she gave the pinned down boy a sympathetic look, "Sam's right. Anyways, if he does anything weird, we can bound and gag him then, right?"

The entrapped boy's eyes shone with slight worry, but he nodded furiously nonetheless.

Duncan and Gwen glanced at each other, before they shrugged in unison and released their grips on the boy. The boy immediately gasped for air, having been suffocated by Duncan's hand for a considerable amount of time.

Zoey was immediately by the boy's side, and gently touched his shoulder. She peered at him worriedly, then asked:

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm all good." The boy nodded in a strangely good-natured way, before he glanced at the door the six had fallen out of curiously. "How did you guys get into my closet anyways? You kind of surprised me a bit."

"We're the ones asking the questions here!" Duncan shouted in a harsh whisper; he jabbed his index finger into the boy's chest. "Got it?"

"Woah, man." the boy replied, holding his hands up in a half-hearted attempt at self-defense. "I was just curious is all." The boy's eyes wandered to Gwen's face.

"What?" she asked irritably, noticing his stare.

"Nothing!" the boy pipped quickly.

"Sierra, uhm, are you okay?" came a worried, questioning, whispering voice.

All heads turned towards Cameron and Sierra who still stood by the doorway. The shorter boy was looking up at the taller girl with a mildly concerned expression. The girl on the other hand had a dreamy look in her eyes; her said eyes were glued to the brown-haired boy's face.

The question seemed to snap the girl into action, and she rushed over to the small adolescent's side and held his hands in hers. The confused boy stared back at her with both eyebrows raised as he glanced back and forth between their held hands and her sparkling expression.

"Uhm—

"Uh, do you two dufuses know each other?"

"Oh my gosh! You're Cody Emmet Jameson Anderson! I have an entire section of my newspaper dedicated to you! You're so much cuter in person!"

Everyone watched as Sierra fawned over the boy like a happy dog.

"Wait," Gwen frowned as she jerked her thumb backwards towards the boy, "you know this guy?"

"'Know him'?!" Sierra squeaked loudly, her voice rising in volume. "He...HE'S—!"

Several hands (including the unknown boy', Cody's) shot out to cover her mouth, followed by a cacophony of shushing sounds.

"Wait," Cody drew slowly as he glanced around at the unfamiliar faces surrounding him. "Are you guys rebels?!" His blue eye sparkled then with childish happiness that surprised those surrounding him. "Oh man, that's really rad. Can I join?"

Duncan and Gwen glanced at each other once more with raised eyebrows.

"Look, Geek," Duncan iterated with a half-hearted shrug, "you don't choose to join the rebellion; you're picked."

"But I chose to join!" Sierra whined. "He should totally be allowed to join too!"

"Yeah, but that's because you wouldn't leave Harold alone until he gave you an invitation!"

Zoey, Cameron, and Sam eyed Sierra with surprise, before they focused their attention on the situation at hand. The trio were confused as to how a possibly dangerous confrontation had suddenly turned into a nonchalant conversation in less than a minute.

"That's not fair though!" Sierra wailed.

"It's cool." Cody shrugged half-heartedly, once again glancing at Gwen, "I'm actually pretty involved with a lot of things in this town anyways… cool things. People would be pretty upset if I left."

"Speaking of 'this town'," Gwen sighed in irritation, "where are we anyways?"

"Huh?" Cody raised a confused eyebrow. "We're in Citadel. Where else?" He paused in thought, before his eyes widened in realization. "Wait, did you guys use a portal to get here?"

"None of your business, Geek." Duncan replied huffily, crossing his arms and leaning against the bedpost. He glanced out of the square window that was built to his right and found himself staring at a large white moon. "Woah! It's night time already? That's impossible!"

"Seriously?" Zoey yelped in surprise, as she ran towards the window; twinkling stars smiled down at her in a sea of blackness."But it was practically morning when we left!"

"Woah, that's pretty weird." Sam added helpfully.

"Extraordinary!" Cameron whispered in awe; he turned to Gwen. "There may be more behind your dimensional magic than meets the eye, Gwen!"

"Wait," Cody started in surprise, eyes turning to rest on the pale adolescent once more, "so _you're_ the mana user, and you can use dimensional magic too?!"

Cameron received several glares, causing him to bow his head in mild shame:

"My bad…"

"That's totally awesome!" Cody finished, eyes sparkling childishly once more. "You're one wicked chick — Gwen was it?"

"No, it's not." the witch growled irritably. "It's not cool at all." She turned her head away from the boy's shocked expression, before she walked to the door that she suspected led out of the room. "Come on. Since it's night time already, we should probably get going."

The four newbies glanced uncertainly at each other before three of them shrugged and followed suit. Sierra hung back, still holding onto Cody's hands.

"I'll never leave you, Codykins!"

The boy gave her an uncomfortable and strange look in turn.

"Come on, Sierra!" Zoey called, walking back towards the taller female and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We have to go."

"Not without Codykins!" Sierra wailed stubbornly.

"Look, Sierra," Cameron called from Gwen's and Sam's sides, "we can't be putting him in danger by asking him to join us. We have to go on without him! Anyways, you've practically just met the guy!"

"Wait, a minute." Cody interrupted with a strangely worried look etched onto his face. "Are you guys planning to leave here without a portal?"

"Uh," Duncan rolled his eyes, "how else?"

"You can't do that!"

"And why not, Geek?"

"It's dangerous!"

"I'm pretty sure that we can take of ourselves." Gwen sighed from her stance by the door; despite her sarcastic demeanor, she did not move to open the door.

"No," Cody insisted, "my da— I mean… There's this really big underground mafia that runs this town at night! They have this underground circulation of illegal enchanted items under their belt, so their really dangerous. If they catch you..."

"Yeah!" Sierra confirmed, digging into her satchel and pulling out a filmy magazine, "there's an article about them here!"

Duncan yanked the magazine out of the girl's hand; he casually flipped through it, until he reached a section that read, "A new underground mafia has taken over Citadel; dangerous mafioso members have their hands on illegal enchanted items; government has yet to act".

"Whatever," Duncan shrugged, handing the magazine back to Sierra, "we can take 'em on."

"They have over ten thousand mafioso under them!" Cody pointed out with exasperated hand motions.

"So what do you suggest we do?" Duncan scoffed, re-crossing his arms. "Stay here?"

Cody mulled over the rhetorical question: "... Yes. At least just for the night!"

"And why should we trust you?" Gwen questioned, leaving the door's side and approaching Cody's bedpost. She placed her hands on her hips, an unhappy expression melding over her face. "What if you just go and tell the police about us?"

"I won't!" Cody insisted, before he shook his head. "It's not like you guys really have any other choice either… I'm just trying to help. I swear."

Gwen looked over the boy before her for a moment. His expression was utterly childish as was his appearance. He had a defenseless look about him that reminded her of her own…

The pale adolescent shook her dark head, clearing the old memory that began replaying in her mind away. She let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose before she eyed Duncan who eyed her back.

"It's your call this time, Gwen."

She found herself looking at Cody again, and once again found that the boy was staring at her with starry-eyed expression. She had to admit that the said expression creeped her out a bit, but it also made her rethink her situation:

"Just for the night. We'll leave immediately in the morning."

"Woohoo! I get to sleep with my, Codykins." Sierra shouted, jumping up and down; she was quickly shushed by the others, so she had to whisper: "Sleepover!"

"Uhm, Sierra, right?"

"Yup, Codykins?"

"Could you maybe let go of my hands?"

Gwen sighed. She was surrounded by children.

* * *

[**Schaffer Port**]

The sky was a monochrome mix of colors — white against black and perhaps vice versa. The sandy streets seemed to glow white against the dark surrounding buildings in the starry moonlight.

Multi-colored, enchanted paper lamps floated throughout the streets, casting shades of red, blue, and green over the dark corners of the town.

The streets were practically empty, save for the small girl who wandered them aimlessly staring at the glowing lanterns. The moonlight enveloped the girl and gave her an ethereal glow causing her hair to appear to be a flowing silver and her skin a porcelain hue.

The crickets began to chirp.

Hearing the insects begin their nightly song, the girl twirled in a small and flouncy circle, her hair casting eerie and spindly shadows on the sandy ground.

"Sha-what?! How did we get here so fast? One second we're in Principle Tower and now we're here?"

"It's called a portal, you imbecile. The Empire has portals placed in every single town."

The girl felt her heart skip a beat.

She recognized that voice; it was deeper than she had remembered, but she recognized it all the same. It was a voice from her childhood and it reeled old memories into her mind like a film.

[_Five children._

_Four girls; one boy._

_Ginger hair that curled around bright green eyes._

_Black hair dyed blue at the tips. Dull, black eyes that hid underneath them._

_Black hair that fell in long cascades. Shy amber eyes peering out uncertainly._

_Spiked hair. Rounded black eyes. A toothy smile._

_Light blonde hair. Airy blue eyes._

_White clothing. _

_Flowers woven into a crown._

_Five pinkies extending outwards in a circle, wrapping together— _]

The sound of rubber crunching against sand snapped the girl out of her reverie.

Running behind the side of the building, the girl peered out onto the empty street and saw two men appear out of the darkness. The first man she could make out was clothed in bright, white attire. The white attire was laced with silver linings that seemed to glisten in the dark.

The man himself was dark-skinned with hair shaved down to a stubble. The girl found his aura to be an erratic silvery blue; and she could tell just by that that he was an egotistical sort of man with issues ranging from internal low self-confidence to a strange fear of causing disappointment.

This was a man the girl did not recognize.

The second man to appear out of the darkness, however, she did recognize. She recognized his tanned-skin, his round eyes, and his toothy smile… But, she did not recognize his aura.

The man's aura had always been splintered — the girl remembered this. However, his aura was more splintered than she had remembered and it was suffocated in a deep redness that resembled the color of blood.

"Oh, no… Mike…What happened?"

* * *

[**Citadel, Cody's Home**]

The seven adolescents sat in an awkwardly shaped circle on the floor with the moonlight filtering through the window as their only source of light.

From Cody's seat, the circle went from Sierra to Cameron to Zoey to Sam to Duncan to Gwen and back to Cody again. Sierra clung to Cody's arm, despite the many times he had told her that it made him feel uncomfortable. Cameron, Zoey, and Sam were in slouching positions, leaning against each other for support; the trio all had dazed and tired looks on their faces. (Zoey in particular was fiddling with a card that had a strange triangle-shaped symbol with an infinity sign inside of it on it; it was a card that all the other three recruits and two senior members also had, and they watched her as she played with it.) Gwen and Duncan also leaned against each other, both of their eyes also clouded with sleep.

"So," drew Duncan with a soft yawn, "have you guys got any siblings?"

"Nope." Cody answered first (It was the pattern they had followed since they had initiated their question-asking conversation. Each person had asked a question — personal or formal — and every person would answer in order according to where they sat in the circle; some of the more personal questions were left unanswered by a few of the adolescents, but no one complained.). "It's just me."

"Me neither!" Sierra pipped happily. "We have so much in common, Cody!"

"I'm an only child too." Cameron replied, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to snuff out his sleepiness.

"Same here." Zoey said next to him. "It got kind of lonely sometimes."

"Yeah," Sam agreed softly, "me too. I had board games to keep me company though. I played them with some of my guy friends sometimes too."

"I made my own clothing and went to local concerts." Zoey compared. "I didn't have many friends to make clothing and go to concerts with though…"

"My mom kind of kept me locked inside most of the time," Cameron interjected, "so I didn't have many friends either… I spent my time reading a bunch of medical textbooks."

"Wow," Duncan blinked in surprise, "dudes, that is seriously lame."

"What about you and Gwen?" Cody inquired, glancing at both Duncan and the witch. "Do you guys have any siblings?"

"I had an annoying younger brother." Gwen informed, keeping her eye on Cody as she said this. Because she did this, however, Cody caught onto a flash of remorse that crossed her face; it disappeared as quickly as it came, so he decided not to question it.

"Me?" Duncan shrugged. "I have a couple of brothers; most of them are in jail though."

"Not surprised." Gwen grinned beside him.

Duncan shrugged once more and elbowed her jokingly.

"You're turn to ask a question, Gwen." Zoey pipped with a happy kind of smile. She didn't really understand why, but talking casually like this made her feel good inside.

"Alright," the witch shrugged with a thoughtful expression, "let's see… What's your worst fear?"

"Woah," Duncan grinned beside her, "going for the most intense questions, I see."

"What can I say?"

A slamming sound from just below them cut through the light-hearted atmosphere. Everyone was jarred into awareness; Duncan and Gwen were on their feet, eyes glued to the bedroom door.

"What?" yelped a dazed and confused Zoey.

"What the hell was that?!" Duncan hissed, reaching into his pocket.

"I-I don't know!" Cody shouted back, eyes wide in alarm. "I usually live all alone—-" He stopped himself, eyes widening even further with realization. "Oh no…"

Another sound — this time a slow and continuous thump.

"'Oh no'?! 'Oh no'?!" Duncan growled; he grabbed the adolescent by the scruff. "What do you mean by 'oh no'?"

"Duncan, calm down." Gwen whispered in a alarm.

The thumping sounds became louder.

"Look," Cody said steadily, arms held up in defense; his eyes drifted over to the closed closet, "you guys need to go hide in there right now."

"In the closet?" Sam questioned, eyes still bleary from sleep.

"I ain't goin in the closet!" Duncan grimaced. "Now you tell me what's going on and I won't smash your face in."

"I'm not going in the closet either." Gwen agreed, arms crossed.

"Can you guys open another portal then?" Cody questioned, his voice becoming strained with worry.

The thumping became louder and louder, until it was clearly evident that whatever was making the thumping sound was now right behind the bedroom door.

"No! I can't!" Gwen shouted in a whisper. "I exhausted almost all of my mana opening this big portal, and it closed when Sierra shut the door!"

"Well no one told me that the portal would close if I shut the door!" came the ecstatic shout of self-defense from Sierra.

The door knob to the room began to turn. Duncan began shaking Cody up and down in a hysterical kind of panic. The door opened fully; all seven pairs of eyes turned.

"Mista' Cody, we're just here ta' check up on ya'—-

In the doorway stood a handful of men dressed in primed black and white business suits. The one who had spoken had large eyes that seemed to get all the more larger as he saw Duncan holding up Cody by the scruff.

"This isn't what it looks like, Gus." Cody said slowly.

"What?" Zoey repeated weakly.

Almost in unison, all of the men by the doorway reached into their suit pockets and pulled out identical looking objects: glocks inscribed with gold, swirling letters.

"What do you think you're doing with the heir of the Anderson Family?"

"The Anderson Family?" Duncan gawked, looking at Cody then at the conglomeration of men.

"You mean you didn't know that Codykins was the son of the head mafiosa in Citadel?" Sierra questioned, a clearly perplexed expression on her face.

Duncan started in surprise, eyed Cody, and slowly released him with a nervous laugh, "Haha, my bad?"

The suited men clicked their guns.

"... What?"

* * *

**A/N: **Another chappie has arrived along with a new story arc! And a new chapter cover too! The TD characters are just way too fun to draw XD. Anyways, a new episode was today!

Just to answer a few of the asked questions:

- I did see the DW google thing.. It was pretty shnazzy

- I actually don't mind yaoi or yuri pairings so fire away!

- Sorry for the grammatical errors and the error of Brick's last name in the last chapter; I'll fix it soon!

So what did you think of this chappie? ;o

Reader's Choice (two this time):

Should the rebel group…

A) attack the group of suited men

B) surrender passively

C) other

Should Dawn…

A) confront Mal

B) watch from the sidelines

C) other


	5. It's Really Awkward!

- 4 -

* * *

_"... then come and don't be!"_

* * *

[**Citadel, one year ago**]

The boy was in school.

The smell of graphite and fresh paper was prominent in the air; the sound of chalk against board and scribbling pencils hung heavily in the atmosphere.

The boy heard his teacher talking, but he wasn't really listening. His attention instead was focused on the cloudless sunny sky that shone from right behind the window he sat by.

He chewed idly on sugary, pineapple-flavored gum as he watched a large bird fly under the sun; it casted a v-shaped shadow on the track field below.

The boy found himself staring at the large bird in a slightly jealous manner. The bird was probably an important bird; the bird probably had done something fantastic in its life; the bird was probably—

The boy shook his head. He couldn't believe that he was feeling jealousy towards a bird. It was kind of embarrassing.

The sound of paper sliding against wood slapped the boy out of his reverie.

Glancing downwards, the boy found himself staring at a folded paper-airplane that was lying innocently on top of his desk. He looked around the classroom — he mostly looked at the girls — in an attempt to find out who had sent him the airplane, but no one made eye contact with him. He shrugged halfheartedly then and unfolded the airplane. Scribbled in almost illegible handwriting were the words: "Happy Birthday, Cody!"

Strange. Was it his birthday?

He thought for a moment, before he finally remembered—

* * *

[**Citadel, Cody's house, present time**]

—_Today is my birthday._

"What?" Cody heard Zoey repeat once more.

The boy's room was reverberating with anticipation. He could tell that everyone within the room was on edge, daring the opposite faction to make a move first. He had to to act soon before things got out of hand.

"Look, Gus, these guys are good peopl—

Cody was cut off as he was jerked to the side by Duncan and shoved into the crook of the delinquent's arm. In one swift motion, the green-haired adolescent pulled out what appeared to be a sword-pistol from his coat pocket and pointed it directly at Cody's temple.

"Move and I blow his brains out!"

"What are you doing?!" Cody whispered under his breath.

"Just go with it, you Geek!" Duncan hissed back, squeezing the boy harder until he practically passed out .

The suited men wore an expression that resembled Cody's own: an expression of complete and utter confusion and shock.

"L-Let go of Mister Cody!"

"Put your weapons down first!" Duncan shouted back; he eyed Gwen subtly who nodded curtly in turn.

The men exchanged glances before the small-eyed one — apparently named Gus — bobbed his head slightly. In a slow and cautious fashion, all of the men bent down and and placed their inscribed glocks onto the wooden floor. They then rose up in the same fashion, hands above their heads.

"Now let Mister Cody go."

"Yeah, not gonna happen!" Duncan grinned; his head snapped back towards Gwen — she had slowly been sneaking back towards the window. "Now!"

The chime of shattering glass rang throughout the room, leaving those who had been prepared for the sound in a daze of stupor.

"Come on, guys!" Gwen shouted loudly, grabbing the closest person next to her (Zoey) and jumping out of the window in a large and graceful leap.

Zoey, who had still been entrapped in the daze of the moment, let out a high pitched scream as the wooden floor disappeared from beneath her; she screamed even louder when the open night sky met her eyes.

Everyone stared at the empty spot where Gwen and Zoey had been standing for a moment in utter confusion. Sam then snapped himself into action, took a deep breath, and jumped out of the window with closed eyes shouting an incomprehensible jargon of words.

"Protect Cody with your life!" Sierra shouted to Duncan as she grabbed Cameron by the scruff and leaped out of the window with a loud, amazon-like shout.

"Hey!" Gus shouted finally, snapping himself into reality. "Where the hell do you think you're going? Let go of Mister Cody!"

The small-eyed man charged towards the only offensive person left in the room — Duncan — who still happened to be holding Cody in his grasps. Duncan, seeing the small-eyed man's sprint, grinned wickedly and backed his way up towards the window with Cody still tight in the crook of his arm. The suited man stopped immediately at this sight.

"See ya later, sucker!" Duncan shouted loudly as he bounced onto the windowsill, lugging a barely conscious Cody (the boy was literally being choked in Duncan's nervous and tight grip) along with him. As he took a step backwards, however, a piece of his jacket became caught on one of the shards of shattered glass protruding from the window frame. The delinquent lost his footing as well as his grip on Cody and fell backwards. While Cody continued his fall with high-pitched scream, Duncan found himself hanging just of the window by his pinned jacket. "You've got to be kidding me!"

While Duncan attempted to free himself of his coat, Cody continued his panicked descent downwards. Just as he thought he was about to meet his end, two firm arms broke his fall and kept him suspended in air.

"That was close, Codykins! I'm going to have to keep you by my side all of the time, if you keep getting yourself put in danger!"

"Duncan!" Zoey shouted, brushing the dust of her pants as she glanced up at the dangling adolescent. "You can do it!"

"Come on, Duncan!" Sam and Cameron cheered with high-pitched tones of anxious encouragement. The two were covered in minor scrapes and bruises but seemed otherwise fine. Cameron in particular looked mildly excited about the entire situation. "Use your muscles, Duncan!" Sam continued.

The sound of loud footsteps echoed in the distance and the sound came from seemingly all directions. The adolescents could already picture themselves being surrounded by an entire militia of suited men holding glocks.

"Hurry it up, Duncan!" Gwen urged in a panicked tone.

"Just go on without me!" Duncan yelled down to them as he squirmed in place. "I'll catch up!"

"But—

"Go!"

"We're not—

"I said 'go' damnit!" the delinquent growled; he sent them a sharp glare.

"But!" Zoey protested.

Indistinct voices now became intermingled with the tumult of footsteps.

"Come on." Gwen ordered curtly, grabbing Zoey's hand once more and dragging her away. "We need to get out of here!"

With much reluctance, the four rebels and (one barely conscious Cody) followed their senior away from the building and down a dark alleyway; from the corners of their eyes, they could see Duncan being slowly hauled up into the room by a handful of the suited men.

* * *

[**Schaffer Port, The Boar's House Restaurant**]

The Boar's House was usually a lively place where exquisite food was served to a rowdy crowd. Cheers of drunkenness and good natured laughs were usually common among the people who sat at the restaurant's many round tables. Keyword: usually.

On this particular day, the Boar's House was unusually quiet and tense. Perhaps this was due to the fact that only four tables out of the thirty-six within the restaurant were actually being occupied:

At the center of the restaurant sat three men: one dressed in black, another dressed in white, and the other dressed in dark gray. The one who was dressed in dark-gray so happened to be clean of eyebrows causing his entire facial appearance to look strange.

At another table to the side of the restaurant sat a single young man with his head buried in his newspaper; his entire body was tense and stiff as if the the suffocating atmosphere was seeping into his pores.

Next to him at an adjacent table sat an awkward-looking couple; the two lovers kept exchanging fervent glances in an attempt to keep the other from making eye contact with the three who sat at the center table.

In the very corner of the eatery, a young girl sat. Her back was to the three conversing men and a hood fell over her head making her features indiscernible.

"This is him. This is the bastard rebel that attacked me!"

The man wearing dark-gray pushed a slip of folded paper across the wooden table towards the two men opposite of him. The man wearing white in turn picked up the slip of paper and unfolded it; he leaned slightly, so the black-wearing man next to him could also see what was on the paper.

"So this is one of the dudes we're hunting for?" the white-wearing one questioned. "He doesn't look all that tough. I bet I could take him down in one go!"

"Duncan Harrietser." the black-wearing one finally drew after a pause of silence; he glanced up at the police officer across from him. "Mr. Howell, I suspect that he was the one who…" He gestured towards his eyebrows. The white-wearing one beside him stifled a laugh.

"Yes!" Howell shouted back indignantly, slamming his fists onto the table. "He's the one, General Strauss!"

"Calm yourself, Mr. Howell." the General ordered, a hint of irritation underlying his tone. He reached into his pocket with a gloved hand and pulled out packet of enchanted cigarettes. He shook the packet once and three cigarettes poked out. "Want a smoke?"

"No thanks. The smoke'll damage Lightning's lungs."

"Uhm, the sign says no smoking." Howell pointed uncertainly to the sign hanging right above his head.

"Suit yourself." the General shrugged as he selected a cigarette, shook it once to light it, and placed it loosely in his mouth.

At the restaurant's bar, a man dressed in a waiter's uniform sent him a hesitant glare, but it went by unnoticed.

"Anyways," Howell continued, "I'm certain that the robberies that happened in a town over were also the work of that Duncan delinquent! I mean, they happened on exactly the same day!"

"I'll keep that in consideration." the General said as he took a long drag from his cigarette — it was evident that he wasn't really listening.

"Damn rebels; they have this funny idea in their heads that they're doing the 'right thing'." Howell muttered under his breath. "They're just a bunch of children."

"Man," the white-uniformed one sighed out of boredom, "you keep on yapping about the same thing — are you sure that the lack of eyebrows is the thing that's keeping the girls away?"

"What..?"

"Do you have any clue as to where the rebel group might be headed?" the General questioned, completely ignoring his subordinate's bickering.

"Well—-

"Wait." the General said suddenly as he raised a slender finger up in the air; his dark gaze traveled around the restaurant causing the clatter of metal and platter to cease completely. "It looks like we have an eavesdropper."

* * *

[**Citadel, random dumpster**]

"This totally sucks!" Gwen growled in utter frustration, as she removed a banana peel from her head; she pinched her nose in an attempt to stop her eyes from watering. She then glared at Cody who was currently wrapped in Sierra's grasp. "This is all your fault!"

"You're the one who suggested we go dumpster diving!" Sierra shot back, hugging an uncomfortable Cody even tighter. "Don't blame everything on Cody! Anyways, if Duncan hadn't taken poor Cody hostage like that this would've never happened!"

"Woah, guys," Sam laughed nervously, "just calm down—

"Well, it would have helped if he'd told us that he was the freakin' son of the guy who was running this place!" Gwen retorted flinging her hands up into the air out of exasperation; she winced as the top her hand scraped up against the metal, closed top of the dumpster.

"Guys…" Cameron tried this time.

"I-I didn't think that it was necessary to tell you... Cody said back. "I didn't think they would come check up on me; they never usually do."

"Uh-huh." Gwen muttered, eyes squinting in the darkness.

"Maybe they came to wish you a happy birthday, Codykins!" Sierra cooed, once again following a completely different note.

"How did you—nevermind. Forget that I asked."

"It's your birthday?" Cameron chirped in mild surprise; he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "Well, this might be a bad time to say this then but happy birthday!"

"Yeah," Sam nodded as he shifted on top of several plastic chip bags, "happy birthday, little man."

"Happy birthday!" Zoey pipped alongside of the others. She paused for a moment in thought, before she reached up to her hair and pulled out the still glistening flower. She then extended it out to the surprised looking adolescent with a smile. "Here you go, Cody! I'm sorry; I know its not much but..."

Sierra looked at her in a slightly jealous manner, while Cody's surprised expression turned confused.

"What's this for?"

"I-It's a present." Zoey stuttered; she now looked confused as well, and she began to pull the flower back. "I-If you don't like it that's fine. I can get you something else!"

Cody stopped her and gently grabbed her wrists with a strange sort of smile.

"No! I love it!" Cody insisted. "It's just that I've never gotten a present before in my life; I was surprised is all." He took the flower out of her hands and held it in his own."

"You've never gotten a birthday present before?" Cameron questioned with a shocked expression.

"Yeah," the adolescent replied with a nervous and nonchalant laugh, "my parents kind of forget my birthday sometimes so…"

"Don't worry, Cody!" Sierra cooed as she stroked his face. "I'll get you that Justin Justin action figure you've always wanted since you were six!"

Everyone gave her a strange look.

Suddenly, a loud scraping sound could be heard from just outside of their premises.

"Everyone just shut up!" Gwen shouted in a hoarse whisper. Complying, everyone held their breaths and stilled their movements.

From outside of their hiding area, they heard two muffled voices:

"The boss is going to kill us if we don't find Mister Cody! It's a miracle that he hasn't found out yet..."

"You don't say?"

"Hey, maybe we can use that green-haired guy as a bargaining chip!"

"We can't do that if they've already left the city!"

"I've set some of our guys on the city's perimeters, so there's no way that's happening."

"Oh yeah; good job on that. Hey, where is that green-haired guy being cooped up anyways?"

Gwen's head perked up.

"He's at the warehouse down the street. He kept on rattling his mouth, so we had to bound and gag him. He's got one big smartass mouth, that one."

"How did those damn kids get into Master Cody's room anyways?"

"Yeah that's what I was wondering; and didn't you think that green-haired guy looked kind of familiar?"

"Yeah, he did! I think I've seen him in the newspaper or something!"

"I remember now! He was in one of those new rebel group things!"

"You're right! There's a large bounty on his head or somethin'!"

"..."

"..."

"Y'know, I'm sure Mr. Gus and the boss wouldn't mind if we…"

"You're not suggesting that we…!"

"No, of course not! But if you want to, I'd probably go along…"

"... Say, if we get enough money from turning in that guy, we wouldn't have to rely on our jobs working under the boss anymore!"

"We'd be rich!"

"Yeah! Y'know what? Let's go right now and take him!"

"Isn't Tony guarding him right now?"

"Meh, I've never liked Tony anyways!"

"We could always convince some of the others to join too; they wouldn't skip out in earning some cash."

There was a sound of clicking guns, followed by the echo of retreating footsteps.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Gwen shouted loudly in utter frustration. "Now we have to go save Duncan's butt?!"

"I-I've never gone on a rescue mission before!" Cameron squeaked.

"I have!" Sam exclaimed proudly earning awed looks. "I mean… haha… it was a board game and stuff… and the person I was rescuing was an action-figure princess made out of plastic, but… still."

Gwen facepalmed, before she let out a sigh:

"We have to come up with a plan to get Duncan back."

"We could always exchange Cody for Duncan." Zoey suggested; she glanced at the the named body sheepishly. "No offense."

"Non taken." he laughed lightly in response.

"No!" Sierra yelled possessively, wrapping her entire body protectively around the boy. "We're not giving up Cody! Anyways, you heard those two guys: they're gonna try to kidnap Duncan from the kidnappers."

"Look," Cody interjected, "if you guys let me go, I can go and explain the entire situation to my gang; they'll listen to me! I'll tell them that this is all a misunderstanding."

"And what if you betray us?" Gwen questioned coldly as she sent him a mild glare. "What then?"

"I would never betray you, Gwen." Cody answered sincerely. He squirmed out of Sierra's grasps despite her protests, hand firmly wrapped around the glistening flower he had received. "I'll be back with Duncan in a few; don't worry!"

"Wait!"

With that, he lifted himself out of the dumpster and disappeared from their sights.

* * *

[**Schaffer Port, The Boar's House Restaurant**]

"An eavesdropper?!" the white-uniforming wearing man gaped in surprise. "Where? I don't see no eavesdropper!"

At this point, all eyes were locked onto the General's still form. The talking couple had broken off eye contact with each other and were now gazing at the black-wearing man in utter fear. The man who had been casually reading the newspaper had dropped the said newspaper onto the floor and was now nervously staring at the long sword-like object that dangling from the man's ways. The girl who had been sitting in the corner had tilted her head in a way that still kept her face hidden in the shadows but made her able to observe the entire unfolding situation from a good angle.

The General lifted himself to his feet and walked around the table, one hand held behind his back and the other holding his cigarette to his mouth.

"How do you know? Which one?" Howell questioned, standing up as well. "Is it another rebel?"

"You and rebels." Lightning rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms across his white uniform.

The General nodded at the shaking couple, and they immediately burst out into pleading cries:

"What? We're not eavesdropping!"

"We were just talking about the weather!"

"We haven't done anything wrong!"

"Shut up and get out." the General ordered as he blew out a puff of smoke. The duo stared at him in disbelief. "Now."

They hastily slammed money down onto the table and scampered out of the door, but not before they made eye contact with the girl who sat in the corner.

"Hey, you're—!"

The door closed behind the two before the phrase could be finished.

"You too." the General said, glancing at the waiter who stood frozen behind the bar. "Go."

The waiter complied without even pausing to blink. The door that closed behind the said waiter let a large gust into the restaurant that chilled those within the eatery to the bone.

The General then began pacing around the restaurant. Once. Twice. Thrice. The hooded girl and the former newspaper-reading man eyed him warily.

"Man, hurry it up already!" Lightning called with a yawn. "The suspense is boring me to death!"

"It must be a rebel!" Howell continued to rant to himself.

The General, hearing this, clicked his tongue and sauntered up to the corner table where the girl sat. She didn't tense up out of fear and instead gazed up at him calmly. He met her gaze and seemed mildly surprised at her calmness. He took a drag of his cigarette.

"Sha-what?" Lightning frowned. "Is the creepy girl the one?" He looked at her and noticed how small and innocent she was compared to the General; he felt a pang of sympathy. "You've gotta be kidding me; there must be a mistake or something."

The General raised his one free hand and, much to everyone's surprise, pointed to the forgotten man who sat at the table across the room. Leaning against the edge of the girl's table, he blew out the held smoke, asking:

"You work for that infamous information broker, don't you?"

The accused man gaped in confusion, before he sprinted towards the door. Immediately, both Lightning and Howell were at the accused man's side; each of them had a firm hand on the man's shoulder. The two bent his arms back and held them firmly behind his back.

"You have been sha-busted!"

"You're a rebel, aren't you?"

"Look, you've gotta let me go!" the held down man insisted. "I'm just doin' this for the money is all! I have a family. I won't tell the broker anythin' about what I heard hear tonight; I swear!"

The General sighed with a strange and disturbed smile, "Don't beg; it's honestly kind of laughable."

"I'll tell you anything you want!" the man cried. "I know a lot! I'll tell you about the rebels if you want!"

At this statement, Howell loosened his grip on the man; said man took the opportunity to break free of Howell's grasp (with a kick to the latter man's stomach) and rush towards the door. Unfortunately for him. Lightning was on him in less than a second and pinned him to the ground.

"Nice try!"

"Alright!" Howell shouted in victory despite the fact that he was still doubled over in pain. "Now we can interrogate him!"

The man squirmed under Lightning's weight but to no effect.

"Dude!" the adolescent grimaced as he held the struggling man down. "Stop moving already. All we're going to do is interrogate ya and then throw you in jail for a few. Geeze!"

"You don't understand!" the man cried as he clawed at the ground. "That man— that man is a psychotic, mana—-

The entire man's body froze up then, like an electric shock had gone through his body. Tears formed in his eyes and trailed down his cheeks, intermixing with the blood that dribbled from his mouth.

Lightning immediately jumped off of the man in shock.

"Dude, what's wrong with you?!"

The man curled into a ball and reached for his throat. His body shook from left to right — it was a terrifying scene.

"Howell, Lightning," the General called, as he rushed to the shaking man's side, "go get a medic. Now!"

The two underlings exchanged glances, before they shakily nodded and ran out of the door. Only seconds after the two men had left, the choking man ceased to move, his pearly white eyes staring out into nothingness.

"What a shame," the General sighed, resting his dark head on a blood-covered hand, "he's dead."

"You killed him." came a quiet reply.

The General turned his head and found himself gazing into the deep, yet airy eyes of the hooded girl. She had already let down her hood, so her light blonde hair now fell down in cascades past her shoulders.

"Whatever do you mean?" the General blinked in mock surprise. "I was standing all the way across the room; I couldn't have reached him from all the way over there. Anyways, he obviously died from a stroke."

"You're a mana-user." the girl said quietly. "All of the Generals are."

The General stared at her in surprise and utter shock for a moment, before he burst out into loud and resounding laughter. Wiping a tear from his eye, he said: "Guilty as charged. And looky here, I honestly just thought you were a regular girl that I could toy around with. My bad."

She looked at him then with an expression that made his blood run cold; she looked at him with utter pity.

"What have you done with Mike?"

He paused, veins icing over; an unreadable expression passed over his face like a shadow, and he pulled his black hat down over his face as if to hide it:

"How the hell do you know that name?"

* * *

[**Citadel, random dumpster**]

"What is taking that guy so long?" Gwen sighed, crossing her arms. "He's probably run off somewhere."

"It's probably just taking him a while to convince those suited guys that we're not bad." Zoey suggested with an uncertain smile.

"Cody'll be back in no time!" Sierra agreed with a nod of her bright head.

"He seems like a pretty nice guy," Sam said slowly, "and he doesn't seem like the type to go back on his word, so…"

_Bang! Bang-Bang!_

The sound of bullets sliced through the relaxed atmosphere like, well, a fired bullet. Everyone shot up immediately; some accidently hit their heads on the dumpster hood above them by accident and let out pained gasps.

"W-What was that?" Cameron questioned. "That sounded a lot like guns!"

The boy exchanged glances with Gwen warily. The witch stood frozen for a moment, before she made her way to the wall of the dumpster and lifted the hood above her head.

"Out! Out! Out!" Gwen ordered. "We have to go now! Follow the noise."

"Uhm," Sam said after a moment of contemplating, "shouldn't we be running _away_ from the sound of deadly gunfire?" A well-aimed glare shut him up. "Alright, got it." With the help of Zoey and Sierra, he lifted himself out of the dumpster and crashed onto the ground outside.

The brown-haired adolescent brushed himself off and spread his arms upwards in the direction of the dumpster, saying:

"Alright, I'll help you guys down!"

There was a muffled reply, before Zoey appeared out of the top the dumpster; with the help of Sam, she made it down to the ground without a scratch. Such the pattern went until all were safely on the ground and out of the dumpster.

"Come on!" Gwen jerked her head in the direction of the echoing carnage. "Duncan take a couple bullets, but I'm pretty sure that Cody won't even be able to take one."

"Codykins!" Sierra shouted loudly, brushing past Gwen and nearly causing the witch to trip over herself. "I'll save you!"

The sound of five pairs of footsteps then echoed loudly throughout the alleyway and traveled towards the direction of the banging cacophony.

* * *

[**Schaffer Port, outskirts of the beach**]

The sky had become clouded; the once bright moon and twinkling stars had been swallowed up by the blackness of the sky. The only source of light came from the faint floating lamps of the town and the bud of a hanging cigarrette, and those lights outlined the shadow of two limping figures.

"Enough running, twinkletoes." came a deep drawl. "Stay still so I can slice your head off." Glowing red eyes peered through the darkness.

"Mal," came another voice, quiet and serene, "harming me will not make you feel any more complete; you must work together with your other selves to reach your goal. Please let me talk to Mike… You're section of the aura is becoming unstable..."

There was a pause of silence and in that silence the latter speaker seemed to sense a change in the atmosphere surrounding the person who stood across from her.

"Mike?" she asked hopefully.

"...Shut up, bitch." came the low and angry growl. "Advice from a freak like you doesn't aid me in the least bit."

A hand reached out in the darkness; the girl found herself being pulled by the hair to the side. She winced in pain, and her eyes began to water.

"I don't need your pity; that pity of yours just makes you a gullible little sheep."

"Mike…!"

The addressed man yanked her closer towards him, until they were only inches away from each other. He raised his free hand and held to her temple like a mock gun; she in turn placed a hand on his chest and attempted to push herself away from him.

Suddenly, a soft light began to admit from the girl's petite hands, and it grew in size until it enveloped the two completely. In less than a second, the light flickered and imploded on itself; all was dark again.

When the moon and stars were finally unveiled by the hovering clouds, the beach was empty.

* * *

[**Citadel, abandoned warehouse**]

Gwen peered over a stack of crates — it was riddled with bullet holes — and into the clearing as five bodies slid into place next to her. In the clearing stood eleven men; five of them stood in front of a broken down warehouse (The warehouse was an orange-blue color, and it was evident that the building had seen too many rainy days; chips of rust stuck out in juts around the rigged cracks of the building.), while six others stood several yards across from them by a stack of metal bins.

The group of six consisted of five suited men — the small-eyed man, Gus, stood at the front — and Duncan who was being held by gunpoint. The four other guns that weren't being pointed at Duncan's temple were trained hesitantly on the group across from them.

The group across from them consisted of four suited men and one confused-looking Cody who also had a gun held to his temple. The three other "free-guns" were also trained on the opposing group.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Gwen muttered.

"Give us our ticket to cash," came the voice of the man who held Cody at gunpoint — the five hiding rebels recognized the man's voice from the conversation they had overheard earlier while they were hiding in the trashcan, "or we'll fill your Cody here full of bullet holes!"

"Let go of Mista' Cody this instant," Gus countered, "or we'll fill _your_ cash prize full of bullet holes!" The suited man turned to Duncan then, whispering: "Sorry, kid, I don't know your name."

"It's cool." Duncan said with a nonchalant shrug, winking at the man who held him at gunpoint.

"Those idiots!" Gwen sighed in exasperation.

"Look, Jack," Gus continued, "we just called the boss and told him about the entire situation; not only is he sending reinforcements, but he's also coming here himself in person!"

The man holding Cody at gunpoint, Jack, froze at this statement and said, "Your bluffing!"

"Nada, Jack." Gus shook his head. "He's coming—-

"Let go of my Codykins!" came an inhuman shout from Sierra. She had been sitting in between Cameron and Zoey shaking with utter rage. The two had attempted to calm her down, but it was no use.

Before Gwen could stop her, Sierra lifted the stack of crates they had been hiding behind with inhuman strength and launched them all the way in the direction of Jack's group.

"What the hell?!" Jack shouted in surprise, releasing Cody in attempt to block the falling crates. It was of no use, however, and their entire group became buried by heavy crates.

Cody, scrambling away from the pile of men and crates, looked up at the newly revealed group of five with a bright smile:

"You guys!"

"Mista' Cody!" Gus shouted — his voice was, however, not filled with joy; rather, it was filled with fear.

"Cody," Gwen exclaimed, pointing at an area behind the addressed boy, "watch out!"

Jack had been slowly dragging himself from his burial beneath the crates, gun in hand. Now he stood right behind Cody with his gun placed only several inches away from the back of the boy's head; a maniacal smile grew on his face, as he pulled the trigger.

"Watch out, Geek!"

A flash of green passed before Jack's eyes just as the bullet fired from the gun. Much to his horror and surprise, instead of Cody's body falling to the ground, Duncan's did instead. The delinquent had sprinted all the way from Gus's side to Cody's side as soon as he saw Jack begin to rise from the rubble of crates.

"Duncan!" came horrified shouts in unison.

Seeing his mistake, Jack lifted his gun once more and pointed it between Cody's large, blue eyes — the boy had finally turned around and was now staring horrified at Duncan's motionless body. He pulled the trigger, but all the gun gave out was a soft clicking sound. Before he could reload his gun, the man was tackled by the other suited men of the opposite faction.

Cody fell to his knees in shock and lightly shook Duncan's body as the five other rebels and Gus rushed to his side.

"I-Is he…?"

"Oh, no… D-Duncan…A..."

"He's…" Cody stammered, eyes beginning to water. "He's d—

He was stopped abruptly by a loud groan. Looking downwards, he found himself gazing at a Duncan who was very much alive.

"He's a zombie!" Sam shouted in horror.

"But that's impossible." Cody blinked in shock. "I saw you—

"Happy Birthday, Geek; I've been hearing the suited guys talk about it all day." the delinquent muttered as he pulled himself to a sitting position; he punched the addressed adolescent lightly on the shoulder — the boy winced nonetheless. "My present to you is saving your life." He paused then and noticed the teary-eyed looks the four new recruits and Cody were giving him: "What?" In less than a second, Duncan found himself wrapped in a five-person group hug; he looked utterly shocked, and he groaned: "Seriously? You guys barely met me a day ago! Not cool." Despite his tone, he looked positively happy.

Gwen watched from beside him with crossed arms, a small and strangely knowing smile on her face. Gus stood beside her, looking utterly confused; he assessed Cody's injuries and smiled contentedly when he saw none.

Suddenly, the sound of a multitude of footsteps echoed throughout the clearing and dozens upon dozens of men wearing suits filtered into the area. Gus stepped forward and gestured towards Jack and his goons who were currently bound by the four suited men who had been a part of Gus's hostage group:

"They're the ones who took Mista' Cody hostage. Take 'em away."

Several of the newly arrived suited men nodded and guided the captured group of traitors out of the clearing. The suited men who stayed rushed to Cody's side and asked a handful of questions:

"Are you alright, Mister Cody?"

"Is everything okay?"

"Are you well?"

It wasn't until Cody answered all of their questions that the suited men finally turned their gazes towards the group of rebels — save for Sierra who was clinging to Cody like a puppy dog and earning distrustful looks — who were slowly and awkwardly attempting to slide away from the area.

"And what about them?"

"So," came a different and deeper voice, "this is the group that has been causing me trouble all day?"

The sea of suited men parted and a middle-aged man wearing casual attire appeared in the clearing. He had an informal appearance and an air of charm about him.

"Dad?!" Cody gasped in shock.

"'Dad'?" the rebels repeated, also in shock. Their six confused gazes focused onto the polo-wearing man before them.

"Ohmygosh!" Sierra squealed, releasing Cody from her grasps and walking over to shake the man's hand. "Mr. Anderson, it is so nice to meet you! I'd like you to know that Cody and I are planning on getting married!"

Mr. Anderson raised an eyebrow.

"What?" Cody shook his head in confusion, before he refocused his attention at the problem at hand. "Nevermind that; Dad, these people are good people! They only kidnapped me on accident! You have to let them go…"

"They're rebels." Mr. Anderson replied. "They have a bounty on their heads."

"And you're a mafia boss!" Cody retorted, being unusually confrontational; he gestured to the group. "Anyways, they saved my life and weeded out some traitors for you!"

"Which is why I'm sending them off with a cargo of our specialized, enchanted goods."

"But!" Cody began before he fully realized what his father had said. "Wait, what?"

Mr. Anderson raised his hands and gestured forwards. Out of the circle of suited men, several came forward carrying stacked wooden boxes. The men placed the boxes down before the rebel group and opened them with crowbars. A treasure of assorted and assumedly enchanted items were displayed before them.

"Have your pick and take as many as you can carry." said; he paused for a moment and mulled over a thought, before he continued: "It's in thanks for saving my son; it's also an apology because we've sort of… thrown away the bags you left in my son's room."

"Woah," Zoey gasped, "seriously?"

"Go ahead." Mr. Anderson nodded.

The group of six happily approached the boxes of enchanted goods with smiles that went ear-to-ear — even Gwen was looking somewhat happy.

"Woah! Extraordinary! An enchanted picture book and an enchanted map! This'll be really useful since we don't even have a map! … Hmm… Wow."

"Sweet, an inscribed knife! Come to papa!"

"E-Enchanted drawing pencils!... They're pretty cool… I guess…"

"Oh! Enchanted trading cards…. Nice!"

"I can have these enchanted elemental tarot cards, right? Are you sure it's okay if I take them…?"

"Why isn't there an enchanted Cody clone in here?!"

"If you have any questions," Mr. Anderson continued, watching the group amusedly, "feel free to ask."

Gwen's head perked up at this and she turned to him slowly, asking:

"Do you happen to know if the rumors about the skilled information broker being in Seton City are true? We're looking for him…"

"Wait," Cody started in surprise — he had been watching the group of rebels dig through their rewards with a wistful expression, "do you mean Noah?"

"You know the guy?" Duncan questioned in surprise as he turned his head away from the box of goods and towards Cody.

"Yeah," Cody nodded, his expression becoming excited, "we're childhood friends! Last time I heard from him, he was still in Seton City! Maybe I could—

"Cody." Gwen and Mr. Anderson sighed in unison.

The boy's expression fell immediately, but he quickly covered it up with another smile—

"Maybe I could put in a good word for you."

* * *

[**Citadel, Cody's House**]

The adolescent sighed as he dragged himself up the stairs. It had been several hours since he had bid farewell to the group of rebels, and a familiar sensation of loneliness had settled in his stomach. He found himself thinking about the bird again — the one he had been jealous of a year ago. He realized that he was once again feeling envious of the bird.

Reaching the door to his bedroom, he turned the knob and slowly pushed it open.

The window to his room was still bashed open, causing bright orange rays of the rising sun to spread across his room. The color was a sad color, he decided.

Sauntering into the room, he approached the window and looked out. On the brim of the glowing horizon, a large bird flew high and proud. He watched as several other birds joined the large bird's side with a heavy heart.

Turning his head towards his bed, he felt his heart skip a beat.

On the bed lay a small folded and purple piece of paper. Not wanting his heart to get to excited, Cody hesitantly reached out for the paper and unfolded it. On the card, in very neat and pretty handwriting were the words: "If you're lonely, then come and don't be. Happy Birthday."

Putting down the letter, Cody's gaze traveled towards his bed again where he saw a card lying. The card was gilded in purple and printed onto that purple was a triangle with an infinity sign in it.

As the boy reached for the card, something lying by his bedpost caught his eye: a fully-packed backpack.

He smiled; he wasn't jealous of the bird anymore.

* * *

[**Unknown Location**]

Untouched by the events happening to the two lonely children, a good-natured couple found themselves trekking in the woods. They held an air of charm about them and seemed to cause the atmosphere around them to chime with happiness.

Slung on their backs were bags that, every now and then, leaked gold coins.

Suddenly, the female member of the couple found herself on the ground. She had evidently tripped over something. With the help of her lover, she shakily stood on her feet and attempted to find exactly what it was that she tripped over. When she finally found out what that "something" was, she let out a gasp:

"Uhm, honey bear?"

"Yes, cutie pie?"

"T-There's a girl on the ground…"

And indeed there was. Hidden by the thick and long growing grass was an unconscious girl who had long, light-blonde hair that cascaded past her shoulders.

* * *

**A/N: **Two chapters in three days! A new record! Huzzah! Also, we've finally reached the thirty review mark! Hoorah!

Anyways, this chapter was extremely fun to write; and with this, another story arc closes! This chapter was actually pretty long.. ;o What did you think about it?... Next chapter shall be a light and fluffy one!

There isn't a "Reader's Choice" today; but if you guess the identity of the couple that appeared at the end of the chapter correctly, you get to pick which TD character will be introduced in the next arc!

Now for some review responses…

**SuperGirlInJeans**: Aw, thanks! :D She'll probably fall head-over-heels with Mike and hate Mal with every bone in her body.

**Guest (YFQSR)**: Many thanks for the compliments, and I might actually use some of your ideas for a later portion of this fic ;o. And a children's book writer? That's actually pretty cool XD. I might be a fan. /nodnod. Beth will definitely be in this fic; in fact, all of the TD characters will! Hm… It _is_ kind of exciting talking to a person you haven't met in RL, especially if that said person is foreign to your country. ;3

**Little Miss Spaced Out**: Thank ya' for the encouragements! The support makes me feel loved xD.

**PhenomsServant**: Oh, my bad about the "sha-" thing. It's just so fun to write him saying that XD. Hopefully I lowered down the "sha-"s in this chappie.

**pokemonfan67:** Thank you much! And I'd never kill of Dawn! D:... At least not yet… /shot.

**BettyCrocker540**: Thank you! I kind of enjoyed writing the character's interactions actually. Sometimes I was afraid that I'd get OOC with them though ;P.

**Luiza TDI**: Muchos gracias! ;3. Don't worry, I'm kind of planning to keep some of the relationships (namely Gwuncan) as brotps. /nodnod.

**Videsa**: Thank ya! Pairings accepted!

**Gliss Phantom**: And you are right!

**Minx**: Aw, thank ya'. I keep worrying that I'm writing the characters at OOC though honestly.. ;o. Thanks for the art compliments as well. The TD characters are just so fun to doodle. ;x. I appreciate your support!


	6. It's Okay to be Happy

- 5 -

* * *

[**Town of Crownite, one day earlier**]

It was a nice town, not too small and not too big. It could have, perhaps, been called a city if it was just a few meters larger around. It sure did have enough people occupying it to be called a city.

The town rested several miles east of the seaside residence of Schaffer Port; a decent amount of winding road stretched in-between the two. To the west lay a stretch of thick forest that was kept contained by a high-standing, metal fence. Beyond that lay the dreaded Red Light District.

Maybe that was why the metal fence was put up: to keep the foulness of the faraway district from seeping into the nice town. Whatever purpose the fence served, it kept the citizens of Crownite pleasant and happy.

None of the townspeople of Crownite were, however, as happy as the two lovebirds who leaned smooching against the building of Crownite's Town Bank. The couple seemed to be oblivious to the grimaces and stares they were receiving, and the ones who grimaced and stared did not move to break the duo up.

The duo, despite their informality, had an air of good-natured charm about them that caused those who looked on — even those who were displeased with and mocked the public kissing — to lighten up. They sprinkled happiness without knowing it.

It wasn't until a middle-aged woman clad in dark gray approached the couple that they broke apart, albeit apologetically.

"Excuse me," the gray-wearing woman interrupted with a voice of authority, "but you two need to take your," the woman paused, considering, "business elsewhere; it's disturbing the public."

"Oh, man," the male part of the couple began, "I didn't even notice!" He tilted his blonde head towards his female companion, "I was just so lost in your eyes, Bridge."

"Aw," she said back to him, "that's so sweet, Geoff." She leaned towards him, bright eyes tracing along his face and finally down to his lips; she leaned even closer—

"Oi!" the gray-wearing woman shouted, gently pushing the two apart. "Didn't you hear what I said? Break it up!"

The bright-eyed, female adolescent nodded apologetically with a sheepish smile and began to move away from her partner. Her movement was cut short by her own clumsiness: as the adolescent was walking forward, so was the gray-clad woman, and said gray-clad woman found herself tripping over the adolescent's extended foot with a loud and embarrassing thud.

"Oh my gosh!" the female — Bridgette was her full name — exclaimed. "I am so sorry!"

"It's alright." the gray-clad officer responded huffily. She was then helped to her feet by the same person who had accidently tripped her, but she didn't appear ashamed. "Just remember to take your business elsewhere."

The couple nodded vigorously at this order and waved the officer off with honest smiles. The smiles were a bit too honest. They were the type of smiles that children would give their parents when they had done something wrong and had pointed a finger at a poor bystander. Mischief was hidden behind all of that honesty.

"Have you got it, Bridge?"

"Yep — I kind of feel bad for taking it from her though."

"I know; I know. Same here, but we need the money for that one thing we've always wanted to do, right? This isn't our first time anyways, babe."

"Yeah, I guess you're right —- hmm, this looks like a new model… do you think we're going to have trouble using it?"

The couple currently had their backs turned towards the crowded streets. Logically, if they had wanted privacy, they would have gone to an empty alleyway instead of staying out on the streets. But, in this particular town, that logic was unsound. The crowded streets provided much more privacy than they would have found in an empty alleyway. All the couple had to do was make sure those who passed them by were engrossed in their own conversations, before they began theirs with lowered voices. In an alleyway, any passerby would have easily hidden behind a corner or a trashbin to listen on to the echoes of their conversation. The town was just strange like that.

The object that the duo was currently looking at was a silver sword-pistol which had been previously hanging from the belt of female officer who had scolded them. It was a standard Military-Police-issued enchanted weapon that the two had constantly seen hanging from local officers' waists.

"Nah," Geoff finally replied with a half-hearted shrug, "it can't be too hard."

"Are you telling me that we should wing it?"

The male stared at her seriously for a moment; she raised an eyebrow in return. He then shrugged and said with a dejected and sad smile:

"It's up to you, Schnookiepoo."

The blonde female sighed to herself and rolled her head, before she finally re-met her companion's eyes.

"I guess we're winging it then."

Geoff's irises sparkled immediately: "Awesome, babe!"

"You do realize that we destroyed five city blocks last time because we didn't know how to use the last MP-standardized weapon right? It's a relief that we didn't hurt anybody…"

"Yeah, but we've totes got it this time!"

"If you say so?"

"Come on, am I ever wrong?"

It was at this time that Bridgette wrapped her arms around Geoff's neck and stared at him seriously in the eyes; she then pecked his lips lightly and said:

"You're always wrong, honey; don't get ahead of yourself."

The man, in turn, gently removed her arms from his shoulder and trailed his hands down until he reached her soft hands. He then twirled her around and prepared to wrap his arms around her waist; unfortunately, as she twirled around, her right leg randomly shot out and so happened to kick him right in his private parts. Tears formed in his eyes.

"Oh my gosh, Honeybear! I am so sorry!"

Bridgette was at his doubled-over side in a heartbeat, gently rubbing her hand against his back in circles.

"I-It's all good, babe…."

The couple had regained the interest of passersby and the latter sporadically sent the duo curiously, albeit humoured, glances.

"W-Well," the male continued to stutter, knees still buckled, "we should probably get going…"

"Are you sure you're up for it…?"

"Yeah, Sweetykinz, it's all good."

Geoff then straightened himself up and grinned brightly. Bridgette returned the expression with a bit of mischief, pistol-sword hidden by her back. In unison, they linked arms and walked into the bank together.

The inside of the bank was much more extravagant than the outside. Walking into the place felt like walking into another world. A red carpet stretched out on top of creamy, marbled flooring. Several enchanted chandeliers floated about the room from the very top of the ornately carved beige ceiling.

The many people who occupied the bank also seemed to be of another world. Most of them were dressed in well-fitted business suits. Those who were not were adorned with sparkling jewelry.

At the very back of the bank were inscribed golden vaults; the inscriptions swirled around in circles, pulsing with faint glowing light. It was widely known that such vaults required Enchanters to open them which meant that the said bank had several employed Enchanters. This fact did not disturb the robbery-inclined couple, however.

The duo currently stood with their backs to the vaults, while secretly cradling their weapon in front of them. They received strange looks from those working and visiting the bank, but the looks went widely unnoticed due to the fact that the two were conversing under their breaths:

"Are you ready, babe?"

"Ready as I'll ever be!"

"Alright!"

With that, the blonde did a one-eighty, slapping her companion in the face with her swinging pony-tail and drawing the sword-pistol up to a shooting point:

"Listen up—

"—-this is a robbery!"

* * *

[**Town of Crownite, several minutes later**]

"I can't believe I listened to you and actually went through with this!"

"Listened to_ me_?! _You're_ the one who decided to rob the bank without any plans in the first place!"

"Yeah, but only because you suggested it!"

The running couple's shouts were intermingled with the sound of jingling coins contained in the bags that were slung over their shoulders, their own panting breaths, and the stampeding rumble of the ten Military Police officers who tailed them from behind.

"Well, you're the one who slipped and pulled the trigger and blew half of the bank away!"

"And you're the one who screamed like a girl when I blew half of the bank away!"

At the moment, the duo ceased their movements and stood in place. They stared at each other, seeming to glare right through each other's skins as the Military Police drew nearer in the background. Suddenly, the staredown was broken down with a spoken phrase:

"But that's what I love about you, babe!"

"That's what I love about you too!"

The couple then embraced for a long kiss; and just as the police were on their toes, they once again broke off into a sprint.

The two dashed past several surprised-looking civilians that crowded the sideways. Glancing at each other, the duo nodded and dug into their gold-filled bags and tossed handfuls of the valuables up in the air.

The golden objects sparkled in the setting sunlight, catching many of the bystanders' attentions. In a heartbeat, the narrow street was filled with civilians were groveling on the floor and gathering up as much gold as they could. This caused a blockade and made it practically impossible for the Military Police to break through and catch up with the thieves.

"Move it!"

"Move aside; we're the Military Police!"

The officers's pleas went unheard.

Despite the fact that the officers were hindered at the moment, the duo continued on their run — they weren't foolish or unexperienced enough to let their guards down.

On and on and on they ran, until they found themselves at a particular high-standing fence. Beyond that fence they saw a thick of trees and bushes.

"Hey, there, I see them!"

"They're at the fence!"

The Military Police were evidently still on their tail, and their voices didn't sound too far off.

Geoff looked at Bridgette seriously, before he hefted his bag of gold over his shoulder and tossed it over the fence. He did the same to Bridgette's bag, though it ended up getting slightly caught on the wiring of the fence and tore on its way down.

"Your turn." Geoff panted heavily with an easy-going smile as he wove his hands together and held them low. "I'll heft you up."

Bridgette flashed him a concerned glance and was about to speak up. She was, however, silenced by the shouts of the police officers and obliged to her partner's suggestion. Stepping on his hefted hand, she was hoisted halfway up the fence where she hooked her left foot in. As she did this however, her right foot shot out and kicked Geoff right in the face. The pain did not perturb him the slightest, and together they quickly scaled the fence and made it to the other side.

By the time the officers made it to the fence, the couple had already disappeared into the forest with their stolen money, leaving a trail of gold coins behind them.

It was a day later that they, after trekking in the woods and attempting to look for a way out, found themselves tripping over a small girl's body.

* * *

[**Unknown Location, eight years ago**]

_The girl is young — she can't be any older than eight or nine. Her youth is played clearly on her face and in the way she holds herself; she shifts in place constantly, like she's waiting for something to just happen. _

_And after several minutes, something does happen._

_The man whom she is with smiles brightly at her from behind his moon-rimmed glasses. He says:_

"_Here, Dawn, was it?"_

_She knows that he already knows her name; she knows that his smile is a paper-thin mask. The truth is prominent in the ghastly gray aura that surrounds his slender frame. Despite knowing this, she politely nods. _

"_Let's introduce you to the children you're going to be spending most of your time with, shall we?"_

_She nods, once again politely._

_The man gestures towards the door in front of them._

"_Well, go ahead."_

_The girl stares at the door for a moment; for a second, it seems as if she perceives what lies beyond it. And she can._

_Just behind the door there are four distinct auras. _

_One is a bright green one; it has, surprisingly, many layers. The top layer of the aura — the only one the girl can currently perceive — is spiking and energetic. The layers below that one seem frighteningly jaded. Izzy — the girl distinguishes the name._

_The second aura is somewhat painful to look at. It holds a pretty sky blue color overall, but it's altogether splintered into different bluish shades (... and a hint of red?) — nothing consistent. The more the girl looks at it, the more it feels like she's running her hands along shattered glass. Unlike the first aura she looked upon, the girl cannot distinguish a singular name._

_The third aura reminds the girl of yet-to-be-solidified amber — soft in most parts yet hard in others. It also reminds the girl of warm caramel candy; it's sticky, but it's sticky in a pleasant sort of way. Eva, the girl perceives._

_The last aura has a soothing property to it, like mint leaves and aloe all blended into one. It's cool — it actually almost veers on being completely frigid cold — and mist-like. It reminds the young girl of vapors rising steadily from a steam vent. Gwen, the aura whispers._

"_Is there something wrong, Dawn?"_

_The girl shakes her head once and pushes on the door._

* * *

[**Deep in Lampshaed Forest, present time, several miles away from Crownite**]

"Look, I think she's waking up!"

In a forest clearing sat a couple that had once been intensely kissing and a formerly unconscious girl. The two parties sat across a flickering campirefire from each other, the campfire being the only source of light for the trio against the black night sky that stretched out on top of them.

"Hey, little dudette, are you alright? You were honestly kind of whacked when we found you."

"Geoff, that was rude!"

The addressed young girl rose slowly from her well-built bed of leaves and glanced across the firelight to where the couple sat with an expression of distrust; her light eyes darted to the the two knapsacks that rested beside them.

Bridgette brought herself to a stand and trotted over slowly to where the girl sat. She crouched down to the ground and attempted to meet the girl's gaze, but the girl kept her eyes glued to the ground.

"We found you unconscious several miles from here." Bridgette began, her hand drifting towards the girl's forehead. "You've probably been out for a day or so."

The pale girl flinched away from Bridgette's touch, her weary eyes still locked onto the dirty ground. The blonde adolescent sighed at this, before she smiled kindly:

"Hey, what's your name?"

The girl stared at Bridgette strangely for a moment, as if she was probing the thief for secrets with her eyes. Finally, the girl's body relaxed ever so slightly and she said:

"My name is Dawn. Your names are Bridgette and Geoff, am I correct?"

"Woah," Geoff started, straightening up in surprise, "how do you know our names?"

"She probably heard us talking to each other earlier." Bridgette explained with a sigh.

"I actually read your auras." Dawn answered; she slowly crossed legs beneath her and stared at them calmly. "Yours, Bridgette, is a very nice blue color; it reminds me a lot of the ocean. It suits you well."

Bridgette was taken aback by this and stared at Dawn in surprise, before she sheepishly scratched her head, saying: "Thanks? I guess..."

"Wait," Geoff crawled forward and joined Bridgette's side, eyes as wide as saucers, "you can read auras? That's awesome, man! What's mine like?"

A look of surprise crossed Dawn's face as she took in Geoff's honest excitement. It took her several seconds to recover, but she answered him honestly.

"Your aura is," she began as she studied him very carefully, "a very calming purple color. It's soothing and wispy. It actually matches with Bridgette's aura quite well."

"Duuuude, that's awesome!" Geoff praised, causing the girl to look at him in mild surprise again. "Hey, can you read your own aura?"

"Not exactly," Dawn replied, "but I can tell my own fortunes."

"Fortunetelling too?!" Geoff exclaimed turning slightly towards Bridgette and punching her lightly on the arm. "Babe, this girl is totally radical!"

"Putting that aside," Bridgette pushed on, rolling her olive eyes in a good-natured way, "how are you feeling?"

"I am faring well." Dawn answered, before she tilted her head ever so slightly. "You're auras on the other hand are beginning to look slightly diminished… Have you not eaten recently?"

The growls of two stomachs answered her.

"I'll go get the berries we stashed away earlier." Geoff announced; he stretched himself to a stand and walked off into the darkness.

Bridgette nodded in concordance and returned her attention to Dawn who was attentively studying a beetle that was scampering on the ground.

"So, do you know where your parents are? They're probably worried about you."

"I am only two years younger than you." Dawn replied, scooping her hand down low to low allow the insect to crawl up her hand. "It is a tender age, but it is still an age in which I can take care of myself." Her statement wasn't cocky and insulting, rather it had a reassuring quality to it.

"Oh!" Bridgette exclaimed in a surprised tone. "But you look so… young!"

"Yes, I do get that a lot." the girl nodded; she paused, her calm expression slipping into a mild worried one, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly. "You… have yet to ask if I am a mana-user."

"Huh?" Bridgette blinked in surprise; she studied Dawn's expression before she continued: "Well, I kind of figured you were one — I kind of sensed it… I didn't think that it was really worth bringing up though." She finished with a shrug.

"But I'm obviously not registered in the Protocol..."

At this moment, Bridgette let loose a loud yet short and abrupt chuckle. Dawn peered at her curiously, eyebrows furrowing even more.

"Dawn, I'm not sure if you can tell this about us by reading our auras, but Geoff and I are thieves; our law-obeying morality is a bit jaded." the olive-eyed adolescent finally answered after wiping a tear from her left eye; she reached over and pushed down on the girl's furrowed eyebrows. "You shouldn't get worked up about those types of things; you'll get wrinkles."

At this time Geoff appeared from the bushes, carrying an armload of shiny red berries.

"I'm a vegetarian," Bridgette explained, "so we mostly just eat vegetables; Geoff, on the other hand, is a big meat-eater; I'm really enjoying forcing him to eat fruits and veggies over our animal friends."

"Babeeeee…." Geoff whined, as he approached the two and placed the berries neatly on a clean linen mat that had been laid out. "You know I can't survive on this rabbit food."

"I'm actually a vegetarian too." Dawn interjected, placing the held beetle back on the ground. "Animals have auras just as prominent — most of the times even more prominent —- as humans. They're living too and have their own important roles to play in the universe."

"I know, right?!" Bridgette exclaimed with sparkling eyes, taking Dawn's hands in her own. Dawn, in turn, stared at her in surprise.

"Aw, man," Geoff pouted childishly, "I thought you'd be on my side with this one, Dawn." He paused, thinking, "Y'know, you kind of remind of this one dude Bridge and I came across last week; he was all for animal's rights too… What was his name again?"

"Oh yeah!" Bridgette chimed in, a thoughtful expression smoothing over her face. "I think his name was… DJ?"

"Yeah, that was it: DJ!" Geoff clapped his hands together at the revelation. "He was a pretty awesome dude."

"He was sweet." Bridgette agreed. The adolescent's hand drifted over to the pile of berries, plucked several out, and popped them into her mouth. "Speaking of which, these berries are really sweet! You should try some, Dawn."

The light haired girl complied and took several berries in hand before dropping them in her mouth. She chewed very slowly. The berries were indeed sweet, but there was also something else in the fruit's flavor. That something could only be described to the girl as "melancholy".

"Woah, little dudette, are you alright?"

The girl nodded slowly, head bent down low, and continued to slide the berries into her ever-so-slightly smiling mouth.

And the rest of the night was filled with such pleasant things. Their conversations ranged from simple things to complex things and happy things to saddening things. The girl even managed to provide the couple with directions on how to exit the forest in thanks for their help to which they replied with happy cheers. Nevertheless, the campground was filled with constant laughter.

By the time the sun rose above the green groves, the couple found that the girl was gone.

* * *

[**At the Edges of Lampshaed Forest, dawn the next day**]

"I wonder how that little dudette is doin'."

"She's probably fine; I hope we come across her again though. She was really sweet."

"I totally agree, Cutiepie."

The thieving couple now walked along a narrow pathway that was fitted in between a high cliff that rose from left and a thick of shrubberies that grew to their right. The dusty cliff provided all the shade they needed from the sweltering heat of the sun's rays. Despite this fact, the suffocating humidity of the area caused beads of sweat to constantly trickle down their backs. The fact that they were carrying heavy bags of gold on their sticky backs didn't help much either.

"Maybe…" Geoff panted, "...we should rest for a bit."

"Good… idea!"

The simultaneous thuds of their bags hitting the ground echoed loudly echo across the area, the sound waves bouncing off of the rocky cliff beside them. Together the collapsed on the ground, pressing their backs against the cool, dark rock of the cliff.

"It's soooo hot." Bridgette whined, pulling on the neck of her shirt. The echo of her voice sounded throughout the area. Her bright blonde perked up at this, and she cupped her hands over her mouth shouting: "Echoooo!"

'Echoooo—o-o-o' —- came the response back.

Geoff glanced at her laughed loudly, his own voice resounding in the humid atmosphere.

"Hellooo!" he tried.

'Helloooo-o-o-o'

"Bridgette," he shouted at the top of his lungs, "I love you!"

'Bridgette-ette I love you-ou-ou-ou'

"I love you more, Geoff!"

'I love you more-ore-ore, Geoff-off-off-off'

They exchanged looks and burst out laughing. Their happy sounds echoed loudly. The happy atmosphere was, however, cut short as a dark shadow — darker than the one cast by the cliff — crossed them from above.

Together the two looked up at the blinding sky just in time to see a humanoid shape teeter off the edge of the cliff and plummet downwards.

"Holy shit!" Geoff shouted, coming to a stand. Only seconds later, the humanoid shape collided into his body, sending both of them to the ground.

"Geoff!" Bridgette cried, running to her partner's side.

"I'm fine, honey…" Geoff groaned and rubbed his aching head, glancing down to look at who exactly it was that was spread horizontally across his abdomen. "Who is this guy?"

The couple carefully studied the young man before them. He appeared only several years younger than the duo and had a somewhat frail appearance. He had tanned skin that contrasted ever so slightly with his wildly spiked dark hair. He was adorned in tattered white clothing that seemed to glow in the darkness of the shade.

"Dude," Geoff shook the man lightly, "are you okay?"

"He looks like he's in really bad shape…" Bridgette murmured worriedly, reaching down to brush several strands of dark hair out of the man's eyes.

At this time, the young man stirred and opened his eyes, revealing round and dark-brown orbs. He shot up immediately and detached himself from Geoff's abdomen, scrambling backwards until his back was pressed against the cold rock of the cliff. His motions weren't the motions of a panicked man, rather they were slow and sluggish.

Bridgette and Geoff exchanged glances.

"Hey," the female began, "are you alright?"

The young man's expression was airy and distant (*), like he wasn't all there. His gaze traveled past the couple as if they weren't even there. With that distant demeanor, he lifted his scratched-up hand to his eye-level and flexed it several times.

"I'm still alive…"

"I think he might have a concussion." Bridgette murmured. She slowly approached the young man and tapped him ever so lightly on the cheek, causing his focus to sharpen ever so slightly. "Hey, can you follow my finger?" She held her index finger vertically towards his face but hesitated when she saw his gaze drift past her finger and to her face.

"Where am I?"

"Lampshaed Forest." Bridgette answered, before she ordered with a more firm voice: "I need you to follow my finger."

This time the young man complied and followed the blonde's finger as it moved from left to right.

"Now, I want you to look at the sky near the sun but not directly at it."

The young man complied again, and Bridgette watched as his pupils constricted. She nodded at this and continued her evaluation:

"Can you tell me your name?"

"..." the young man's eyebrows furrowed in a worrying manner, before he finally managed a name: "M...ike."

"Okay, Mike," Bridgette sighed in relief, "it doesn't look like you have a concussion, but can you tell me what you were doing earlier?"

"Yeah, man," Geoff interjected, having watched with awe at how calmly his partner had handled the situation, "you just dropped off of that cliff and fell like a rock! Good thing I was there to break your fall, or you might have just went splat!"

"Geoff—!"

"I jumped…" came the slow drawn reply.

The couple's good-natured demeanor fell immediately.

"You...what?" Geoff blanched. "Why…?"

"I… I don't know." Mike answered, his gaze becoming far off again.

"Mike!" Bridgette grabbed the man's shoulder and shook him once. She didn't know why, but she felt like that if she let him drift off, he'd disappear forever. It was kind of a weird feeling. The young man's attention snapped back and he looked at her with a mildly shocked expression; she smiled brightly at this, saying, "If you're lost, you can come with us! We know the way out."

"Yeah, dude," Geoff agreed, standing up and extending his hand towards the sitting man, "we could do with some company anyways. It'd be one heck of a party."

Mike stared at Geoff's face blankly, before his gaze travelled down the adolescent's arm to his extended hand. An unreadable expression crossed his face then, but it disappeared before the couple could read it. After a couple more seconds of staring, the young man reached out, took Geoff's hand, and came to a stand.

"Great!" Bridgette smiled slightly, springing to a stand. She bent over and picked up her gold-filled knapsack and slung it over her shoulder. "I guess we should go then."

"Alright!" Geoff exclaimed, copying her and picking up his own bag. "I've been itching to get out of this forest!" He glanced back at Mike, "How about you, dude?"

"Huh?" Mike stared at him again for a moment. "Yeah… I guess."

And thus the trio walked — well, the couple had to constantly usher Mike along, but they were walking nonetheless — making simple conversation as they walked along the trail.

"Y'know," Bridgette began, "you can always borrow one of Geoff's shirts; yours is, no offense, looking kind of worse for the wear."

"No!" Mike shouted loudly, coming to a stop surprising the two thieves. He gripped the edges of his ragged shirt in a strange and desperate manner. He then averted his gaze. "It's okay…"

Bridgette and Geoff exchanged glances again and looked back at the young man. That was when Geoff noticed a strange and black inky-blotch beneath Mike's shirt.

"Dude, that's a pretty cool tatt. Is it enchanted?"

"Tatt?" Mike frowned, his hand drifting towards his chest. Looking he down, he saw a swirling tattoo of a crop of white and thorny roses peaking out from beneath a rip in his shirt. The vines of the roses shifted back and forth, giving the illusion that they were consuming his body. "Oh… I guess it is…"

"That's pretty radical, man."

They continued walking again; and as their conversing went on, Mike became more and more alert and focused. The couple noted this with a slight sense of accomplishment.

Finally, after several hours of walking, the trees around them thinned out and the cliff became slanted and smaller, until literally no trees were in sight and the cliff had flattened and leveled beside them. They could see a small town in the distance — the couple cheered that the path they took didn't take them to the Red-Light District.

"Well," Bridgette breathed in deeply, "we've finally made it!"

"Oh yeah, baby!" Geoff cheered beside her.

The two then dropped their bags and embraced each other for a lengthy kiss. It was only after several minutes that the two finally noticed that Mike was still standing behind them, looking awkwardly at the ground.

"Mike," Bridgette drew slowly, unlatching herself from Geoff, "what are you going to do now?"

"I don't know…" came the addressed man's slow reply.

"You could always travel with us, dude." Geoff suggested, rubbing the back of his head. "Though you'd probably have to learn how to rob—er…" He trailed off.

"It's alright." Mike chuckled for the first time that day — it was a nervous and awkward chuckle, but it was a chuckle nonetheless. "I think I'm just going to stay here for a while before heading into town. I guess I'll go wherever the wind takes me from there…"

"Alright…" Geoff shrugged and patted the man on the shoulder. "Good luck, man."

"We'll miss your company." Bridgette added, walking up to hug him in a friendly way.

Mike simply stared at them in mixture of confusion and surprise, before he returned the farewell in an awkward manner as he rubbed the back of his head: "Bye… Geoff, Bridgette."

It was at this time that Bridgette looked at him in a serious yet kind and knowledgeable manner. She opened her mouth and told him a slew of words that would stick with him forever:

"Life isn't as bad as you think."

And with that, the couple and the young man parted ways.

* * *

[**Unknown Crossroads**]

Dawn stood in the forest at a break in the road. She could sense that the path to the left led to an open farming countryside and that the path to the right led to city that radiated chaos — the Red-Light District. Closing her eyes and nodding ever so slightly, she turned…

* * *

**A/N: **And another chapter and cover appears! Huzzah! Like I said, this chapter was very fluffy. I hoped you liked it nonetheless though.

As for those who correctly guessed that the couple was Bridgette and Geoff — phoenixdragon78, Little Miss Spaced Out, SuperGirlInJeans, Rose, BettyCrocker540, LuhM,YFSQ, Sandrastar66 — you get to pick which TD characters appear next! I'm going to go with phoenixdragon78's choice first since he/she was the first one to guess correctly, but I'll also do everyone else's choices too in the order of when they answered… Does that make sense? Bluh XD.

Reader's Choice:

Should Dawn…

A. Go Left

B. Go right

Oh! Also, I feel kind of awkward putting in my own OCs in this story, so if you want to put your own OC in this story, go right ahead!

Here's a form if you feel like doing it:

Name:

Age:

Appearance:

Personality:

Opinion of the Empire:

Occupation: e- Rebel, Lieutenant General/Major General/ Brigadier General/ Colonel/ Lieutenant Colonel, Major, Captain, First Lieutenant, Second Lieutenant of General _'s Platoon, Military Police Officer, etc.

Thanks for all those who reviewed; the reviews really help a lot!


	7. It's All Important?

- 6 -

* * *

—Are you still following?

...

Good — you had better be — because we've barely scratched the surface of this incomprehensible "play". In fact, we haven't even introduced all of our "actors" yet.

Let's review who we have so far—

- our little travelling rebel group:

Consisting of seven now in all, each member of the group holds a rather delectable secret; they share a common and impossible goal: to bring down the Empire — their individual goals, however, lie on completely opposite sides of the line,

- our Capital City players:

All of the players are struggling their hardest to obtain the "future" to which they want to arrive at; their goals vary, and it's quite apparent that not all of them are playing by the same deck of cards,

- our fearsome Generals:

They're quick in mind but even quicker to the kill; now, _their_ goals are the hardest of all to distinguish. What do they wish to achieve? What are they striving for? What makes their separate goals so hard to discern is how simple their goals really are. We'll get to that part later though,

- our lonely and mysterious young girl:

She evidently has unknown ties with "actors" on different sides of the "stage"; her loyalties and goals are even more indiscernible than those of the Generals,

- our lovely thieving dynamic duo

Let's not forget the bumbling couple; despite their singular appearance, they have already greatly changed the plotline of our "play" and have guided some of the other "actors" onto different "routes"; although their role seems small at this moment, just you wait and see how much they influence with their bumbling and stumbling.

Now, that we're done reviewing, tell me and be honest: have you really been paying attention? To every single detail? Because every detail is important.

Huh? Do you want me to explain further?

…

Well, I guess I could… But they _are _"spoilers" of sorts, so if you hate those types of things, you'd best avert your gaze and cover your ears.

…

Alright.

Do you remember Willowasher Villa — the closest place to Seton City that that dimensional witch had a portal placed? Do you recall how the rebels mentioned that it was overrun by soldiers?... Good, because there's a reason for that.

How about that instance where Cody Anderson claimed to have witnessed a bullet hit our delinquent rebel right on the mark— do you remember that as well? The boy's claim was correct. I'm going to put that fact aside for now.

Looking at the time, I say we should focus on the task at hand.

But before we continue with our "play", let's move backwards for a bit and then start forward from there, so we can look at a few other events that serve as links to the chain of our "play".

* * *

[**The Red Light District, nine years ago**]

It's dark; but it's a pleasant kind of dark. The sky is colored with jaded indigo and is dotted with twinkling white stars that smile down upon the festive town.

The town is festive in all manners — sound, color, light, atmosphere. The energy of the entire area buzzes with celebratory happiness.

Young girls wearing colorful flowery robes dance throughout the streets with young boys dressed in patterned cloaks; lights pour from the sparklers they hold in the tips of their fingers, casting spirited shadows across the lantern-adorned buildings. Hand-in-hand the boys and girls swirl around in a dance, their giggles filling the night.

A smoky, yet mouthwatering scent wafts into the air, as a steady stream of gray puff rises from the crackling bonfire at the center of the town. Adults and older children surround the flickering light with baskets of uncooked meats and vegetables in hand. They are dressed in both cloaks and robes that flutter like colorful wings in the midnight breeze.

The said midnight breeze causes the low-hanging rainbow lamps strewn across the tops of the buildings of the village to sway ever so slightly. Beneath those swaying lights and on the sidewalks lining the streets sit numerous eye-catching stalls and booths. A steady flow of children and adolescents filter to and from the bright entertainment areas, carrying toys and foods bundled in their arms upon their departure.

Everything is light and cheerful; colorful and happy; smiles and cheers — the few Military Officers who roam the streets are also grinning with contentedness.

However...

Untouched by the festivities of the town, what can only be described as a "demon" with red hair, skin, and eyes rises from beneath the ground, unseen and unheard. The "demon" drifts into the crowded streets with a sway, its slow and sluggish steps leaving imprints of scarlet on the asphalt ground.

Drip. Drip.

The demon sheds its sinful skin. Splotches of red dribble to the ground.

"A-Are you okay?"

The question is asked to the demon by a young woman clad in flowery robes who holds the hand of her younger daughter in her free hand. The woman's expression is that of utmost concern and compassion — it is evident that she does not see the demon for what it truly is. Thus, she reaches forward with a delicate hand to affirm the demon's condition. Her delicate hand, however, never makes its mark. Like the woman's head and legs, it is severed from her torso by a sharp and unseen force.

A sickening crunch slices through the cheerful atmosphere.

An eruption of crimson paints itself into the crowd that surrounds the lacerated woman and the wretched demon. The crimson color also finds itself covering the papery layer of strewn lanterns, coloring them with tiny flecks of red.

The woman's daughter screams loudly with wide eyes, still holding onto her mother's limp hand.

The demon grins a crescent white smile at her, its ruby eyes glowing as it growls in a haunting tone—

"Good morning."

In that instant the crowd disperses, their horrified screams tearing through the night. The daughter, still clinging to her mother's limb, is pushed to the side, tripped, and promptly trampled on by dozens of pounding feet. Her tiny body becomes almost unrecognizable.

The crowd's inhuman feats and attempts of escape are of no use, however. One by one, from left to right, members of the crowd fall to the demon's glee. The same unseen yet sharp force slices and rips their bodies to pieces.

The sparsely armed Military Officers don't even stand a chance.

The splatters of crimson completely coat the once colorful array of lanterns.

When the military arrives several hours later, they are met with a gruesome sight. Almost the entire town is caked from head to toe in scarlet — only the neighborhoods sitting on the very outskirts are left untouched. The scarlet color seems to cling thickly in the air, causing the rising mist to adopt a crimson hue. The mist is thick and tastes of iron.

Once the soldiers enter the area, they are not even able to see their hands in front of their faces. The lanterns scattered along the damp ground are their only source of light — a blood, red light.

It becomes known as The Day of Red Mist and the town as the infamous Red Light District.

The slaughtered Military Officers are never replaced; the town is left tucked away in a corner, unacknowledged and forgotten.

Without the watchful eye of authority, crime soon floods the streets of the renamed District. The whispers and rumors rise again, because the bright red lights that had shone that faithful night can never be forgotten.

* * *

[**The Red Light District, present time**]

Steam rose steadily from the manhole built in front of the large, steel skyscraper. The tall building stood with other buildings of similar stature against the gray backdrop of the sky. In between those steel-framed towers on the asphalt streets and in the shady alleyways walked two different types of people respectively.

The asphalt streets were filled with men and women clad in business suits driving monochrome and odd-looking automobiles. These men and women held a respective yet scrappy air about them. These people were members of the "adult world".

Lounging around and strutting against the spray-painted walls of the alleyways were members of the other half of the District. Those who wandered these areas were dressed in attire that ranged from bright to dull, baggy to tight, and skimpy to layered. This world belonged to the "children".

Now, despite these two different worlds belonging in the same, distinct area, they were regarded as two separate places entirely. The members of the two different worlds never directly interacted or acknowledged each other. They carried on with their lives with recognizing the other world's presence. But that was just on the surface. The truth was hidden deeper.

In a particular dead-end alleyway stood a ring of adolescents. Despite their ranging appearances and stances, they had one thing in common: shining bright in their eyes was a hard, angry, and glaring look.

They whispered spitefully among themselves:

"Another one of our guys — gone! Kidnapped!"

"How many is it now? Four people gone missing?"

"And it was little baby Maya this time too! Whoever has been doing this…"

"What do you mean 'whoever?' It was obviously one of those rich Jersey gang freaks up north! They've been nothin' but trouble for us lately."

"Oh… If only we had actually officers here—"

"That'd do nothin'! The Empire doesn't want anything to do with us!"

"God dammit. Those Jersey asses are probably laughing at us right now and forcing Maya and the others to do horrible shit!"

"We should retaliate or something — I can't stand this."

"Yeah! We should take out some of these guys too; that'd teach 'em."

"Hold up, ya'll!"

The order was shouted with authority, causing all eyes to turn towards the person who had spoken.

A slightly thick dark-skinned adolescent stood staring at them with deep and discontented eyes, hands placed on hips. The adolescent was female, and her full lips were pursed in a disapproving manner. Her head was hidden behind her peach-colored hood, but it was easy to tell by the way several dark-strands fell into her face that her hair was black in color.

Once she held the attention of those around her, she continued:

"You can't go pinning the blame on those Jersey guys," she jerked her thumb backwards in a vague direction, "without any evidence first. What if someone else has been getting our guys?"

"Are you actually defending those jerks, Leshawna?" came an angry retort from a member of the gathered circle.

"I'm not defending anyone." the adolescent replied, sending the one who had spoken a hard glare. "I'm just being reasonable is all." She paused, allowing her gaze to linger on all of those who were a part of the circle for several seconds, before she continued: "Don't get me wrong, I have a couple of bones to pick with those Jersey guys, but our people come first."

Several members of the group glanced at each other, their uncertain looks becoming reaffirmed.

"We need to talk to those Jerseys," Leshawana continued, drawing her hood down to reveal a head of tightly tied-up, coarse, black hair, "to see what their side of the story is. If they even appear the least bit suspicious, well, then," she slammed her balled fist into her open palm with a confident grin, "there is going to be hell to pay!"

A conglomeration of cheers and shouts echoed throughout the alleyway.

* * *

[**Willowasher Villa, six months earlier**]

The rain falls, hard, unrelenting.

The skies from which the raindrops fall are dark and gray with clouds, shutting away the sure-shining sun above like an unwanted curtain. Everything is silent in the shadow of this drawn curtain, save for the cries of the cicadas and the pitter-patter of the rain upon the black asphalt ground.

The large raindrops drum on top of the woman's dark cap in a frenzy; the bill of the woman's cap steadily dribbles a stream of collected water onto her tanned cheek. Just above those wetted cheeks, the woman's hard eyes glare, slicing through the darkness with seemingly glowing irises of amber and gold.

What is she glaring at exactly?

The source of her irritation are the five people who stand before her shivering and wet. They look at her with uncertainty, a hint of fear, and shame. Their expressions, however, make her all the more angrier:

"Why… Are you late?!"

Her shout echoes across the open lot and is swallowed up by the sound of pouring rain. When she doesn't receive an answer, her eyes narrow dangerously and her hand flies to the scabbard that hangs at her waist, cracking it up ever so slightly to reveal a sliver of silver.

"If you don't tell me why you're late right this instant," she approaches them in stomps, her dark boots clopping loudly against the now muddy ground, "I will slice you up like sushi!"

She breathes heavily on the person she now stands in front of: a young woman with bright brown hair.

"I-I," the woman gulps, blinking away the raindrops that fall into her eyes, "I got lost on t-they way. I live on the very outskirts of town—

"That's no excuse!" the black-clad woman shouts at the top of her lungs, fists clenched tightly, hand still on scabbard. She whips her dark head to the right, causing her ponytail to slap the brown-haired woman in the face. "You!" She nods to the dark-skinned adolescent who stands quietly with a cool expression at the very right. "Why were you late? You're excuse better be better than this lady's or I will personally beat you to a pulp!"

The tone in the woman's voice confirms that her threat holds true, yet the dark-skinned boy stares at her and gives her a simple shrug. This is the last straw for the woman, and she storms her way over to where the boy stands, sword fully drawn from its scabbard and pointed squarely at his throat. The boy stares at her with wide-eyed surprise and desperately shakes his head from side to side. This just makes the woman all the more angry and she raises the blade above her hand and brings it down hard.

In the split second before her sword makes contact with the boy's hand, however, a man wearing a white labcoat dashes out from seemingly nowhere and pushes the boy out of his way. The man's labcoat is ripped from his shoulders by the still descending sword and hits the ground. The ground crumbles under the force behind the sword and a ringing sound quickly follows. The sword has broken at its hilt.

"Geeze louise, Eva!" the former-labcoat-wearing man whines as he picks himself up off the ground; he offers a helping hand to the fallen boy. "You can't go around eighty-sixing people!"

"You got in my way!" the woman, Eva, shouts loudly, grabbing the man who had spoken by the scruff.

"I can't let you just kill someone!" the man retorts as he is shaken roughly back and forth. "Anyways that kid might even be a mana-user!"

At this statement, Eva releases the man and allows him to fall on his but on the ground. She glares at him with her amber eyes then at the cowering five bystanders who flinch at her gaze. Turning on her heels, she storms off in the rain, the broken hilt of her sword still in hand.

The man who had been tossed on the ground rises, turns on his own heels, and extends his hand out welcomingly towards the quiet, yet large boy: "The name is Doctor Okarin, and you are?"

The boy doesn't answer, but takes the doctor's hand. The doctor then watches as the boy reaches into his pocket and pulls out an identification card. He hands it to the doctor with a patient expression. Taking it, Okarin reads aloud:

"Beverly Cowle?"

The doctor lowers the identification card to gaze at the boy who is now blushing profusely at the utterance of his real name.

"Well," the doctor huffs loudly, handing the card back to the boy, "you all should come with me; you're a bit late, but we still have time to run some tests." He gestures backwards to a gray tent that has been set up in the distance. "If this is your first time taking this test, I'll explain it to you more when we get there." He begins to walk with the others following him closely behind. "All you need to know right now is that this test is required by the Mana — or Magic — Registration Protocol."

* * *

[**Sycamore Road, present time**]

Cody held up the purple-backed card to the sunlight, peering at it with an open eye:

"So, you all received the same card when you guys were recruited?"

To his left walked Cameron and Zoey and to his right walked Sam. Cameron was currently studying a large laminated map with a thoughtful expression, while Zoey was studying a handful of colorful cards. Sam was toying with a cube of some sort with a perfectly content expression — he was the first to reply:

"Yeah, basically… I think you're supposed to keep it with you at all times to show that you're part of the 'gang'."

Cameron nodded and lowered his map with an uncertain smile, saying: "It's embedded with a special mana-latex, so it can't be copied. It's quite fascinating actually."

Zoey nodded in agreement, before she peered over Cameron's shoulder and studied the colorful map as she pocketed her cards.

"How come the map is moving and stuff?" Zoey questioned, pointing out how the tree-surrounded road on the map kept shifting ever so slightly. "Is it enchanted?"

"Yup!" Cameron nodded with a grin.

"And those seven dots…" Zoey continued, eyebrows slightly furrowed at the group of seven white dots moving along the map.

"Those dots are us!" the glasses-wearing boy nodded; he gestured to the tiny green dots buzzing around the forest area of the map. "Those dots represent animals."

"Wow," Zoey blinked, "that's pretty shnazzy. Your dad has pretty cool stuff, Cody." She continued to study the map.

"Yeah, I guess." Cody shrugged nonchalantly, pretending to hard not to care about her compliment; his eyes drifted to Gwen who walked, arms-crossed, in front of them. He sighed with a loud voice: "If you guys need any other cool things, I'm the guy to ask!" When the boy noticed that Gwen didn't even bat an eye at his comment, he sighed dejectedly.

"Move it, dorks!" came a gruff shout from behind the walking four.

The said four turned their heads just in time to see Duncan bustle forward, shoving Cody and Sam to the ground and out of his way as he approached Gwen's side.

"Hey!" Zoey and Cameron shouted indignantly. The two turned to lend a helping hand to their fallen friends: Zoey extended her hand out to Cody, while Cameron did the same for Sam — Sam, however, mostly had to get up on his hand due to the fact that Cameron had a hard time utilizing his arm strength.

"Are you alright?" Zoey asked with concern.

"Yeah," Cody grimaced, exchanging a look with Sam, before his gaze drifted to Duncan's back; he watched jealously as the delinquent lightly punched Gwen's shoulder, "I just can't believe I actually hugged that jerk a couple of hours ago!"

"He _is_ a jerk sometimes," Zoey agreed, patting Cody on the shoulder with a friendly smile, "but he actually has a sweet side, y'know?"

Cody raised an eyebrow at her, despite the fact that he was internally grinning at the fact that she was touching him.

"Get your hands off of my man!" came a recognizable shout. The entire group paused and watched as Sierra popped out of the bushes on the side of the road and jumped on Cody.

Both Cody and Zoey let out shouts of surprise as Sierra did this; and Zoey quickly dove to the side, removing her hand from Cody's shoulder.

"S-Sierra!" Cody stuttered in indignation, as the female wrapped her body tightly around his own. (He failed to notice a small blue box slip out of his bag.) "What the heck are you doing?!"

"Marking my territory!" Sierra growled as she stroked his head, sending both Gwen and Zoey a glare.

Sam, having noticed the small blue box on the ground, walked over to pick it up with a curious expression: "Hey, what's this?"

"Oh," Cody began to explain as he attempted to break free of Sierra's tight grasp, "that's an app for the Cell Card. It's called the Arc-Word—

"The Arc-Word?!" Sam and Cameron pipped in unison.

"Isn't that the new app that lets you join a chatroom to talk with people all around the world?" Sam asked, his eyes beginning to sparkle with excitement.

Cody nodded, pounding weakly on Sierra's tight-holding arm.

"I heard that it operates using invisible mana-particles floating around the air." Cameron murmured, tapping his chin thoughtfully as he examined the product; he turned to Cody with a curious expression: "How did you even get your hands on this thing? I mean, it's literally in its prototyping stages and only a select few people have access to it!"

"My dad _is _an underground enchanted items dealer." Cody said pointedly, having given up on freeing himself from Sierra's grasps; he now sat cradled in her arms with a defeated expression — an expression which Duncan laughed loudly at.

"Uhm," Sam tapped his chin, "is it okay if I try it out? I mean...I'll give it back after I'm done!"

"Nah, man," Cody grinned from his awkward position, "you can go ahead and keep it."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, man; think of it as a gift."

"Sweet!"

"Cody," Sierra whined hugging him tighter and nearly causing his eyes to bulge out of his sockets, "did you get me a gift?"

"Putting that aside," Gwen sighed loudly, clearly irritated; she nodded at Cameron, "I remember there being a break in the road a couple miles ahead. I know one of them leads to Willowasher Villa, so we obviously don't want to take that one. Which direction do we go?"

"Well," Cameron murmured, unfolding his map and studying it, "we—

He stopped, eyes wide.

"Cameron," Zoey said slowly as she studied the map alongside him, her voice growing louder with anxiety, "what do those red dots mean? And why are they coming closer and closer to where we are?!"

Duncan whipped his head towards the opposite direction, body tensing and eyes narrowing; in that general direction, his sharp ears picked up a collection of voices:

"Empire soldiers?! Damn... but how… ?"

* * *

[**Capital City, Military District, Principal Tower, First Platoon's Common Room - several days earlier**]

The room resembled an office and a resting area all combined into one. Desks piled on with numerous stacks of paper lined the walls; and every desk was occupied by a person clad in a white, distinct-looking uniform. At the very back of the room was a large window pane that took up almost the entire wall. The windowpane led out to a sun-bathed balcony that was lined with numerous red-velvet chairs. At the center of the room was an ornate rug that seemed to be rather worn out by having been tread on by too many feet. Telling by how the uniform-clad men and women bustled back and forth in the room, the rug would just become all the more worn.

The doors to the room swung open and those shuffling around the room looked up to see three people standing by the doorframe: their orange-haired General and the two new recruits they had been expecting.

"And here we are, friends!" the orange-haired General shouted loudly, patting the two surprised-looking people on either side of her. "Your common room! Oh, by the way, don't drink any of the water at the fountain." She turned, whispering to the boy who stood stiff on her left: "They have mind-control chips in the water-systems here; don't let them get to you! Haha!"

With that, the black-cad General somersaulted back out of the door and disappeared in the distance. The recruits were left standing behind, slightly confused expressions etched onto their faces. The female recruit was, however, the first to recover and sized up the room with a considering frown.

The uniform-clad men and women quickly returned to what they were doing, leaving the two recruits to themselves.

The male recruit coughed loudly, gaining the female's attention:

"Well, Jo," he extended a hand, "it's good to see someone as skilled as me make it to one of the General's Platoons."

The female recruit scoffed at the gesture and took the male's hand in hers, tightening her grip until she heard a cracking noise:

"What do you mean 'as good as'? I'm better than you, Brick!"

"Hey!" Brick winced, yanking his hand out of Jo's grip and rubbing it with teary eyes. "I was just trying to be nice!"

"Well, if you're too nice," Jo grinned mockingly approaching him face-to-face, "I'll crush you."

Brick glared back at her and prepared to retort when the sound of rubber rolling against a hollow surface cut him off short. The two recruits turned and blinked in surprise as a white-clad girl riding on a skateboard skidded to a stop before them.

The girl had deep-blue eyes and a freckled face that was framed by wavy, dirty-blonde hair. Her hair was streaked with a blue hue that matched at her eyes. Her uniform, however, was what caught the recruits' attention, not the fact that she was riding a skateboard — although that in itself was pretty strange — : the uniform was white like many of the others they had seen, but a single silver band had been woven onto the left and right sides of her chest. The band reached from the back of her uniform all the way to the front.

"I'm Second Lieutenant Harley Tyler." the girl introduced, extending a hand outwards towards the two recruits with an easygoing smile. "I see the General has gone off somewhere again."

Jo stared at the girl's extended hand with crossed arms and a contempt frown:

"Second Lieutenant, huh?"

"Yeah." the girl replied, raising a slender eyebrow at her. She lowered her hand ever so slightly, but was quickly stopped as Brick accepted her handshake.

"Nice to you meet you, Second Lieutenant." Brick greeted with a grin; he paused to salute her, causing her to raise an eyebrow again in turn: "Graduate and Recruit Brick McArthur here!" He nodded in Jo's direction, "This is Jo."

"Well," the Second Lieutenant rubbed the back of her head and jerked her hand towards the back of the room, "your new uniforms are in the back… I assume that the General hasn't told you about the reception party that's being held in a couple of days?"

"A reception party?" Jo's frown deepened. "What for?"

"For the graduates of the academy of course." Harley replied, hand on hip; shrugging her shoulders, she gestured to the door. "After you two get changed, I'll give you a tour of the place — hopefully we don't run into Eva; on the other hand, seeing Mal off before he leaves on his mission won't be too bad."

"Mal?"

Jo and Brick exchanged uncertain looks.

* * *

[**Arc-Word Chatroom, unknown time**]

The Queen: So are any of you losers going to that big graduation reception party?

CIT: Yeah, actually. I've been cordially invited.

CIT: Calling us "losers" is totally uncalled for by the way.

Honor: Yes, I am actually. I have been personally invited as well. And as always, The Queen, you're vocabulary for insults is wonderous.

Mech: i can't… D:. i don't live in Capital City.

PRISS: Yup, I'm going; you'll probably recognize me instantly when I get there!

MeisterH: Neither do I. I don't really enjoy parties anyways. It doesn't go well with my mojo.

Remehcs: I'm not really interested in parties, but if anything happens, be sure to tell me~!

Funster: aw, man, i can't come either. don't live in capital city or anywhere near it.

The Queen: Great, so half of the people on here are total losers who don't even live in Capital City? I don't even know why I'm talking to you all. How did you poor people even get your hands on the Arc-Word anyways?

CIT: I don't know why you talk to us either….

MeisterH: Gosh, is "losers" your favorite word or something?

Remehcs: On a different note, have you guys heard anything about that one General being sent out to hunt down the rebels? o_o So scary~!

MeisterH: The Generals aren't scary at all! I could totally take them on!

The Queen: Yeah, have fun being killed, Meister.

CIT: The Empire really needs better security about the missions they put the Generals on...

PRISS: Totes agree!

Honor: I disagree…

Remehcs: Huh, why's that? ;o

Funster: Yeah, they kinda tip of those rebels group with the way they practically hand out information

Honor: That's where you're wrong. The Empire _chooses_ what information they allow to circulate. They only allowed the information about that General's hunt to get out because it would spook the rebels.

MeisterH: I highly doubt the rebels would be spooked because of that!

The Queen: Well, whatever, I have to go. I'll see you losers later or something… or not.

_The Queen has left the chatroom._

Remehcs: I've actually got to go too! It seems like something noteworthy is happening at home… ;o

_Remehcs has left the chatroom._

Funster: same here, dudes. see ya.

_Funster has left the chatroom._

Honor: I must bid you all farewell too.

_Honor has left the chatroom._

MeisterH: I guess it's just us four then, huh?

CIT: I've actually got to go too.

_CIT has left the chatroom._

PRISS: same here!

_PRISS has left the chatroom._

Mech: I might as well go too!

_Mech has left the chatroom. _

MeisterH: Aw, man…

_MeisterH has left the chatroom._

_The chatroom is empty.  
_

* * *

**A/N: **Many apologies for the late chappie! I was feeling kind of sick today… Nonetheless, here we have a brand new and slightly lengthy story arc and cover! What did you think of it? What did you think of the Arc-Word chat? I mostly added that to the story to help move the plot along and help some of the more distant characters interact…

Can you guess who is who?

Anyways, a lot of you guys asked for the same character and most of those said characters appear in this arc (Leshawna and B), while the others will appear in the very next arc.

The reader's choice was very close last chapter, and if Dawn had gone left instead of right, we would have entered a slightly happier and Scott/Ezekiel-oriented arc… but meh. Let the darkness begin! /cue evil thunder and laugh.

I'm still accepting OCs btw (I'll probably end up using all of them, lol). If you think I'm writing your OC, well, ooc, just pm me!

Reader's Choice (2):

Dawn should meet _

A. The Jerseys (Anne Marie's gang)

B. Leshawna's gang

C. neither; observe, investigate

The Rebels should…

A. Run and hide

B. Attack and risk capture

C. other


	8. It's Creepy

- 7 -

Route x BA

* * *

[**Willowasher Villa, six months earlier]**

Inside the tent is surprisingly dry and cool. The only evidence of the rainfall outside is the echoey pitter-patter of the raindrops on the outside surface of the plastic tent.

At the very back of the tent is a white fold-up table; the table is piled on with metal, wiry contraptions that contain little nodules that flash with color. A strategically placed metal chair rests on both sides of the table facing eachother. All along the sides of the tent sit similar-looking metal chairs, none of which are occupied.

The tent is empty.

"So," Doctor Okarin begins as he leads the group of five to the chairs lining the left side of the tent; he turns to them with a smile that is a bit too bright, "for those of you who are new, today we are testing you to see if you so happen to be a mana-user."

"You guys have to run tests on us?" asks one of the stationary five, eyebrows raised nervously. "I thought that being a mana-user was a genetic trait, and since our grandparents are mana-users—

"It's true that being a mana-user depends purely on genetics," Okarin interrupts with a dramatic flourish of his hand, "but, like genetics, whether or not that mana-user gene passes on is purely subjective! Therefore, tests are required!"

"S-So," continues the one who had spoken earlier with a hopeful expression, "that means that if we don't pass the test and we end up not being mana-users—-

"Then you're not required to come to Capital City," Okarin interrupts yet again, "and you can continue on with your lives; however, I'll be back every six months to re-run the tests. Some of the traits of a mana-user don't always emerge immediately." He gestures to the brown-haired woman, "Sarah, since you've already done this before, why don't I take you first?"

The woman nods and follows Okarin to the back of the tent, while the four others awkwardly take the available seats. They nervously fiddle with their things as they await their turn.

Several hours pass before Beverly's turn finally comes around; he is the last to take the test. All of the people before have been proven as non mana-users and have departed happily from the tent.

He just hopes that he is just as lucky; he hopes that his plan will work.

"I guess its just you then, Beverly." Okarin grins as approaches the adolescent from the back of the tent, clipboard in hand, "Am I correct to assume that you're new to this too?"

B nods nonchalantly in return.

"Not much of a talker are you, huh?"

B shrugs.

"Anyways," Okarin grins again, gesturing towards the station set up behind him, "I guess I'll give you a nice and long explanation of it all; you seem like a really good listener!"

They begin their walk towards the back-set table and Okarin begins to explain:

"You see, this test that we're going to run not only tests whether or not you're a mana-user, but it also tests what _kind_ of mana-user you could possibly be… The Empire wasn't always so serious about the Mana-Registration Protocol before, y'know? I mean, it wasn't really enforced; and if you didn't show up to the tests, no one noticed or cared… That fact changed after several events that occurred nine years ago… Ah, I'm rambling! Here, sit there."

Okarin places himself in the seat that is closest to the back of the tent, while B finds himself planted on the seat across the table from the doctor.

The doctor reaches into a plastic container that rests on the table and pulls out a frighteningly long needle. B raises an eyebrow in turn, causing Okarin to chuckle.

"The first test is a blood test to see if you have a high mana-flow in your bloodstream," Okarin explains. "It'll first of all test your blood to see if you're a high 'mana-flow' mana-user with the help of this guy here." The doctor gestures to the whirling machine behind him. "High mana-flow mana-users are what The Empire labels as the 'most dangerous' — that is to the public and even to themselves."

The doctor flourishes his hand outwards, beckoning B to stretch his arm out. B complies and watches as the doctor ties what appears to be an elastic band around his upper arm.

"You've probably heard of a couple high mana-flow users, no? From least high-flow to most high-flow the classes range from alchemist-class, witch/wizard-class, to mage-class. I'm not very inclined to speak of the Alchemists, because I've come across a couple who were just plain mean and pretentious! Witches and Mages, however—-"

B watches, eyebrows raised, as the doctor flourishes the needle around in the air with a dreamy look in his eyes.

"Witches and Wizards can turn the mana in their bodies into a completely different substance: water, lightning, fire, wind — oh, you name it! Elemental magics! Then, there are the special-types of Witches and Wizards… and those…" He grins strangely, causing B again to raise his eyebrows.

In a fluid motion, Okarin presses the tip of the needle into B's awaiting arm and draws out several milliliters of blood. He swivels in his chair then with the blood-filled syringe and begins to type away at his machine.

"Now, _Mages_ are_ really_ fascinating!" he continues, squirting out several drops of B's blood onto a small glass-slide and inserting it in a slot in the machine. "They can see, touch, and manipulate mana in its purest form! Did you know that they can even see the mana particles floating around in the air? Those miniscule little things? It's amazing!"

The machine beeps and several nodules flash red. The blood-covered glass-slide is ejected from the slot as a long paper is printed out from the side of the contraption. The doctor rips this slip of paper out and quickly scans it with jumpy eyes.

"Hmm, it appears as if you don't have a high mana-flow…" The doctor sighs and almost sounds disappointed. "That's a good thing seeing that many high mana-flow mana-users end up loosing it…"

B narrows his eyes ever so slightly at this; a multitude of thoughts cross his mind.

"Well, onto the next test!"

Turning in his chair once again, Okarin reaches down and picks up a manilla folder from off of the ground. B watches, calm and collected, as the doctor pulls out a small three-by-three square piece of blank paper from the folder and places it onto the table. He then pushes it towards B and taps on it lightly.

"This next test will see whether or not you're a medium mana-flow mana-user. Alchemists are also part of this mana-flow class strangely enough, as well as Shamans and Shapeshifters… I don't really get Shamans; they say that they rely on 'spirits' and whatnot, when all the 'spirits' really are are high density mana-formations with developed consciences… They are the only ones — save for Mages — who are able to see and use these mana-formations. Shapeshifters... well, instead of having mana flowing in their circulatory system, they have it embedded in their muscle mass… What they do is kind of self-explanatory, don't you think?"

B glances at the paper as he listens to the doctor's ramblings, before he picks it up with calloused fingers. He stares at the paper intently, but nothing happens.

"Well, that's…" the doctor sighs, trailing off. "It doesn't look like you're a medium mana-flow mana-user either or the paper would've changed…"

B shrugs with a mild smile, not too affected by Okarin's disappointment.

"Time for the last test."

B watches the doctor carefully with a slightly racing mind as the doctor reaches into the brief-case placed behind him and pulls out a small black cube.

"This'll test whether or not you're a low mana-flow mana-user — a Wiccan or an Enchanter. Wiccan's are charm speakers, or so you could say… Enchanters… well, that's pretty self-explanatory. They can imbed their own mana in inanimate objects to give it special properties… Oh, Enchanters are wonderous!"

B glances away from the doctor's now flushed and ecstatic face, feeling quite uncomfortable.

"The cube'll change red if you're an Enchanter and blue if you're a Wiccan!" the doctor exclaims loudly, tossing it in B's general direction.

The adolescent easily catches and holds it in a cupped palm. Both he and the doctor watch the cube intently. For a second, the cube seems to flash red. The doctor shoots up at this sudden change in color with an excited expression; the expression quickly disappears as the cube quickly returns to its normal black color.

"Huh?" the doctor frowns, prying the object from B's hand, toying with it, and placing it back into the latter's palm. Okarin's frown deepens when the cube remains completely black. "A malfunction…?"

B shrugs half-heartedly.

"The test is over then." the doctor states, all happiness and joy that had once been shining in his eyes having died out. "You may leave."

And so B does, a satisfied and triumphant grin plastered over his face as he exits the tent.

"I'll be back in six months," the doctor calls behind him.

* * *

[**Sycamore Road, present time**]

"Shit!" Duncan growled underneath his breath. His steel-blue eyes darted to the bushes and he motioned towards them harshly. "Yo, into the forest _now_!"

Gwen's long coat was already disappearing into the shrubberies, as was Zoey's form which was in fact being dragged along by Gwen herself. Sierra soon followed suit, Cody still cradled in her arms, with a wild and loud shout much to Duncan's chagrin. Sam and Cameron darted to the bushes on the other side of the road, tripping over each other's shoes just as they were about to reach the bushes. Duncan, seeing the duo's clumsiness, rushed to their sides, kicked their bodies into the bushes and dove into the said bushes himself.

"Duncan!" Gwen whispered harshly, poking her head out of the shrubbery ever so slightly.

They were separated.

"Gwen; shit!"

The sound of marching footsteps drew nearer.

Gwen gestured for the delinquent to get down, before she disappeared behind the greens herself. Cursing under his breath for the fifth time that day, Duncan complied and pressed his body against the ground.

"Wow," Cameron whispered to Sam beside him, eyes glittering, "my first escape from the Military Police!"

"It's not an escape if we get caught, dumbass!" Duncan hissed harshly, slapping his hand over the boy's mouth. "Now shut up and get down or else!" His steely eyes rose to Sam's face. "You too, fanboy!"

The two recruits hastily nodded.

Silence quickly settled — save for their loudly drumming hearts and heavy panting breaths.

The footsteps drew even nearer and the delinquent could now discern the voices of those walking down the road clearly; there were six distinct voices and fourteen muffled ones in all:

"I can't believe the transportation cart broke down, tch!"

"I can't believe that we have to go and fix it…."

"Well, there _are_ a lot of mana-users this time around…"

"Psh, a lot of feisty ones you mean… I have a damn bruise from where that guy sent that enchanted ball flying at me! I mean, have you ever seen an Enchanter cast enchantments that fast? Is he even real?"

"Tch, whatever. You're just a wimp."

"At least we managed to round them up— we haven't seen a riot like that in a real long time!"

"Y'see, this is why we need the Mana-Registration Protocol: to keep those bastards under control…. damn! They give me chills..."

"... Yeah… hey, have you guys heard about the General that they're sending after the rebels?"

The hearts of the seven hiding rebels froze over in an instant.

"Oh, I've heard about that. Some scary shit, man…"

"Hey, I've heard that a single General can take out one-hundred mana-users in one go!"

"They're frickin' superhuman!"

"More like monsters...tch."

….

"Hey, guys, did you hear that?"

Duncan's muscles tensed.

"Hear what?"

"I thought I heard something in the woods…"

"Probably just your imagination...tch."

"Hmm… I'm going to check—

"We don't have time, tch! I want to get home before they day is over, so let's hurry up and get to that cart!"

"Yeesh! Fine! Touchy…"

The conversation then faded into small-talk ranging from family occurrences to newly-released products. Several long minutes passed before the sound of marching footsteps faded away completely. Despite this, the rebels kept their backs pressed against the ground for ten more minutes, hearts still wildly beating in their chests.

Finally, Gwen popped out of the bushes:

"We have the frikin' Generals chasing after us?!"

"Well," Sam laughed nervously with an ill chuckle, as he peered above the shrubberies "technically we only have one General…"

"This is bad…" Duncan muttered under his breath as he came to a stand; he paused, pulling out the purple card with rebellion's symbol etched on it. "Why the hell didn't Doris tell us about this?" He glared daggers at the card. "When I see him, I am going to wring his neck—

"Uhm," Cameron interjected with a raised finger, "didn't you ignore several calls from Harold earlier? I mean, that's who I think you said the calls were from..."

"You…" Gwen gaped at Duncan in stupor, before she leapt out of the bushes, walked across the dusty road, and slapped him upside the head. "You idiot!"

"Hey!" Ducan grimaced, rubbing his bruised head as he glared at her. "What's the deal? I thought Harold was just being a dork again and calling me about his barbie doll collection or something!"

"Ugh! Unbelievable!" Gwen growled, crossing her slender arms and turning away from him.

Zoey, who had been standing uncertainly to the side, visibly winced at the angry words. Sierra, who was standing next to her, threw her arms exasperatedly in the air:

"Guys, you guys are like childhood friends! You've been through everything together. Don't tell me that you're going to give each other the cold shoulder _now_? Think about me—the fans!"

Both Duncan and Gwen stared at her strangely.

"I-It's not like the General knows where we are, right?" Cody grinned nervously as he walked up beside the two conversing senior rebels, having finally freed himself from Sierra's grasp. "I mean, we can always use a portal to escape, right…?"

The heated and unnerving conversation was cut short by a beeping sound that emitted from Duncan's purple card.

"It's Harold."

"Are you going to ignore that too, punk?" Gwen snapped, eyebrow raised challengingly.

Duncan rolled his eyes turn and flicked the card with his wrist. The moving image of an orange-haired, glasses-wearing adolescent appeared on the blank side of the card.

"Hey, Harold!" Sam grinned into the card with a wave. "How's it goin' man? It's been a while!"

"Hey, Sam," the image replied with a slight waving gesture, "It's pretty alright I guess… I probably would've talked to you sooner if _Duncan_ had picked up my calls… Gosh!"

"You could've called the others, Doris — that is if you had a frickin' brain!" Duncan retorted angrily. "You could've told them about the goddamn General that's after us!" He raised his fist threateningly.

"Hey," Harold's image retorted, blatantly offended, "I have an extremely high IQ, thank you very much. Anyways, I couldn't reach the others' cellcards for some reason… Their signals were jammed or something… I could only connect with yours… and you didn't even pick up! I called you like ten times!"

"Well," Duncan grimaced, rolling his eyes, "Doris, if you're here to tell us about the General chasing after us, we obviously already know."

"Actually," Harold drew out with a slow-spreading grin, "I have something to tell you guys about that General; you guys probably won't believe me, but…."

* * *

[**Capital City, Grand Hall, present time**]

Heather tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear as she waited for the well-dressed guard before her to find her name on the guest list. She noticed that the guard was taking his time and that his eyes kept drifting to her slender form. She couldn't blame him of course.

The adolescent had on a satin red dress that wrapped around her figure like an elegant blanket, emphasizing on her nice form. Diamond earrings dangled just above her shoulders, flashing with the same brightness that the necklace hanging around her neck did. Her dark hair framed her delicate face, long eyelashes, and ruby red lips. She was like a devil with the looks of an angel.

"Would you hurry it up?" she clicked her tongue, arms crossed.

The guard's face flushed, and he nodded stiffly. Several more seconds passed before he tapped at a spot on the paper clipped to his clipboard.

"Ah, Miss Heather Lee. Welcome!"

The guard leaned back and pulled back the red restriction rope that blocked the wooden doorway and gestured for her to pass. She did so on her own accord and with a flourish of her hair.

The adolescent's high-heels clicked loudly as she made her way to the closed door. Another guard who was standing by the door,nodded at her briefly, before he pulled it open for her.

As the door opened, the scents of aged wine and other delicacies rushed to greet her, as did the sounds of wonderfully orchestrated music.

She stepped inside the room and observed the area with judgemental eyes as the door slid to a close behind her.

The room was gigantic — so gigantic that she could not even see where the walls were from where she stood. A large diamond chandelier, probably as large as two city blocks, hung high above her head, covering the entire ceiling with a warm hue. The floor beneath her appeared to be made of gold and silver, as did the round tables that were spread strategically around the room. Many people dressed just as fanciful as she were seated around the tables, while others drifted across the room making small chat.

"Heather!" came a happy squeal.

The addressed adolescent turned her head just in time to see a bodacious blonde bound her way up to her.

"Oh, Lindsay," Heather blinked coolly, slightly surprised, "you're still here."

The blonde was dressed in a dark blue dress that hugged tightly around her waist and came to a stop just above her knees. Her hair fell in golden cascades past her shoulders, hiding the white hoops that hung from her ears.

"Of course I did, silly!" Lindsay cooed, wrapping her arms around the stiff adolescent's neck. "I was originally just going to stay for an hour or so for Tyler after he invited me, but when I found out that you were going to come I decided to stay even longer!"

"Oh, great…"

"You're late by the way, Heather!" Lindsay pouted. "Like, really, really late! Like several hours late!"

"It's called being fashionably late, Lindsay." Heather replied, rolling her eyes.

"'Fashionably late'?" Lindsay questioned, tilting her head to the side. "How can being late be a fashion?"

"Nevermind," Heather sighed, shaking her head. "Did you grab a table yet?"

"Yup!" Lindsay nodded fiercely. "Some of Tyler's friends and this one K.I.P. person invited me to sit with them; I saved a seat for you too!"

"Well," Heather raised an eyebrow impatiently, "are you going to show me or what?"

"Right!" Lindsay pipped. "Follow me!"

The two weaved their way through the room for five minutes, until they finally reached a round table where four people were sitting. Three of the four were wearing military uniforms: two of them wore white, while one of them wore gray. The one who was not wearing a uniform had on a snug purple dress and had a clean and crisp look about her.

"Hey, guys," Lindsay greeted the four, "this is my B.F.F. Heather!" The blonde turned to Heather and gestured to the four sitting at the table, pointing from left to right: "Heather, these are Brick, Jo, my cute boyfriend Tyler, and the K.I.P. Courtney."

"It's C.I.T." Courtney coughed lightly with a flounce of her brown hair.

"Are you sure?" Lindsay questioned, tapping her chin.

Courtney and Brick exchanged looks.

"Yes," Courtney replied slowly, "I am a C.I.T. afterall."

"Did you really have to pick a table with these losers around it?" Heather sighed exasperatedly, looking quite annoyed with the situation.

"Hey!" Courtney shouted defensively.

"Why don't you sit in the courtyard outside then, Princess?" came another voice, thick with irritation.

"I'm sorry, did this she-man really just say that to me?" Heather laughed. "Jo, was it? Do you know who I am?"

"That was uncalled for!" Courtney interjected, coming to a stand. Brick came to a stand as well, fists balled.

"It's okay, Type-A." Jo drew slowly with a smirk, coming to a stand herself. "Miss Prissy-brat over here is just having a temper tantrum."

"Excuse me?" Heather blanched. "I am the daughter of the owner of the Nebula Corporation!"

Several gasps echoed around the table — none of these gasps, however, originated from Jo.

"So what?" Jo continued. "Are _you_ the owner of the Nebula Corporation?"

The Nebula Corporation was a large multi-stockholding business that sold almost all of the enchanted-products circulating around The Empire. In other words, it was a billion-dollar monopoly.

"No," Heather snapped back, "but it's my inheritance, and when I get control of the company, I could _buy_ your masculine face and your gay, pansy boyfriend over there!" She gestured in Brick's direction.

"What did you say about us?" Jo growled, rolling up her sleeves.

"You heard what I said." Heather answered, clicking her tongue.

"Hey!" Brick called, jumping in-between the two. "This is a party, not a boxing ring!"

"Shut up!" the girls shouted at him in unison, causing him to wince ever so slightly.

"He's right." Courtney interjected, placing a hand directly on both adolescents' shoulders. "You guys need to stop fighting, or we're all going to get kicked out of here."

The two arguing adolescents turned and noticed that nearly all eyes in the room were on them.

"Well," Jo sighed, straightening up and extending a hand out towards Heather, "you've got guts, girly. Truce?"

"I guess you're pretty… 'gutsy', too." Heather rolled her eyes and shook the woman's hand.

"Yay!" Lindsay cheered. "We can all be friends!"

They all then took their seats. Taking the opportunity of the awkward silence that had settled in, Tyler leaned over towards Brick and Jo, asking:

"So, you guys are in one of the Generals' platoons? Are they like the rumors say?" He made a cuckoo motion with his fingers at his temple. "Y'know… crazy?"

This question grabbed the attention of all at the table and they leaned forward, awaiting the answer.

"They're not crazy…" Brick drew out slowly, exchanging a glance with Jo who simply raised an eyebrow.

"They're _really_ crazy, like total nutjobs." Jo finished coolly.

"No, they just have quirks is all." Brick shook his head with an uncertain smile. "... Crazy quirks."

"What are they _like _though?" Tyler pressed on, before he drew back with a nervous chuckle. "Not like a really need to know or anything; I'm not a spy if that's what you're thinking! Haha…"

"Two of them are here themselves." Jo replied, eyebrow raised. "Why don't you just ask them yourself?"

"They're what?!" the listeners shouted in unison.

"Where?" Tyler asked, swiveling his head around in exasperation.

The orchestral music that had been playing in the room suddenly ceased and silence settled. The lights dimmed and a spotlight shined directly at the center of the room. A familiar-looking young man stood at the center of the room, holding several notecards, a glass of wine, and an enchanted, unplugged, rod-shaped microphone.

"Hey, isn't that…?" Lindsay began, eyebrows raised.

Alejandro Burrosmuerto stood at the center of the room wearing a charming suit and an elegant smile.

"I would like to make a toast," he began, "to the graduates of our Military Academy."

The crowd applauded and cheered, save for Heather who stood with a gawk that turned into a frown.

"We would not be able to reside peacefully at Capital City if it were not for you all." the man continued; he waited until the applause died down, before he spoke again: "I would also like to announce those who have been nominated for the Seat of Diplomacy in the Council: Adams Worthy, myself — Alejandro Burrosmuerto, Samuel Days, Courtney Faire who helps to run the city affairs, and Heather Lee, daughter of of Nebular Corporation…" He froze at Heather's name and his eyes scanned the room, until they landed on Heather's form.

The two stared at each other, shocked.

"Hey, Heather," Lindsay whispered, "how does he know who you are?"

"Wait, Heather," Courtney interrupted, "you've been nominated too?"

"...That is all." Alejandro finished, a pleasant smile spreading over his shocked expression. "Thank you for your time."

The room echoed with applause as the spotlight faded away and the normal lights returned to their brightness.

Alejandro began to walk over to where Heather and Courtney stood in a poised manner.

"H-He's coming over here…" Courtney drew out slowly, face ever so slightly flushed.

"S-So what…?" Heather shouted back. "He's obviously just sizing up the competition."

"That's right!" Courtney blinked, her eyes becoming steely and cold. "We're enemies now."

"...What?"

The three-way showdown was, however, cut short by a loud and psychotic laugh that came from the beneath table next to them:

"Ahahaha! That's so funny! There's no way that Mal is missing!"

The exclamation came from an orange-haired female who was stooped in a crouching position under the table several feet away from where the six were sitting; she was wearing what appeared to be glowing goggles. Beside her crouched a white-uniform-wearing man who had a sheepish appearance. He glanced at her wildly, before his gaze shifted around the room — thankfully very few people were paying attention to their conversation.

"Y-You need to be quiet, General…. General Hastings is already in the council-room... " the man whispered to her; he paused to look at the table of six. "There's nothing going on here: carry on!" The man didn't wait to see if his order was followed through and quickly turned to whisper another string of inaudible words into the girl's ear.

The girl, in turn, dropped all of her former happy nature as her expression melded into a harsh, cold, and calculating one. The expression caused both Jo's and Brick's blood to run cold. They had never seen such a look on their General before.

The six watched as the oranged-hair adolescent rose from the ground and exited the room in a speedy fashion, the white-uniformed man following shortly behind her.

"Wait," Tyler drew slowly, "was that one of the Generals?!"

"Jo, did you see the General's face?" Brick murmured to his companion.

"I've never seen her like that before…" Jo whispered, looking absolutely shocked.

"I-I've never seen _you _look like that before," Courtney commented, gesturing worriedly to Jo's expression.

"And 'Mal'," Tyler continued, eyes as wide as saucers, "is that another one of the Generals?"

Jo and Brick exchanged glances again.

"I'm going to check it out." Jo said firmly, darting towards the door.

"Jo, wait!" Brick exclaimed exasperatedly. "It's against regulations for us to go uninvited to the council room!"

"Yeah." Courtney nodded firmly, arms crossed as she shared a meaningful look with Brick. "It's against the rules."

"Whatever, losers." Heather rolled her eyes, trailing after Jo. "Lindsay, come with me."

"Wait, Lindsay!" Tyler shouted, grabbing the blonde's arm. "Don't go… It's too risky for you!"

"Lindsay." Heather called testing as she stopped in place and folded her arms in front of her.

Lindsay's bright blue eyes darted back and forth between Heather and Tyler, before they finally stopped on Tyler. His eyes brightened at this.

"I'm sorry, Tyler…" She murmured apologetically as she ran to Heather's side. Together, the two trailed after Jo. Tyler stared at their retreating figures with a look of confusion and betrayal.

"I need to stop them." Brick stated, puffing out his chest, before he darted after them.

"Brick!" Courtney shouted in whisper. "You're going to get in trouble if you go!"

Brick stopped at this statement and turned towards her, eyebrows furrowing, and said: "A soldier never leaves a man behind!"

"But they're the ones who left _you_ behind!"

"That's why _I_ need to be a soldier for them." Brick replied heartily, giving her a salute before he bounded off.

"...What?" Courtney blinked, sounding confused and hurt at the same time. She glanced at Tyler who was still standing in place with a baffled expression. "Well, they can go if they want. We're smarter than that, right?"

Tyler was gone from her side in the blink of an eye.

"W-Well, whatever!" Courtney grimaced, sitting daintily back in her seat alone at the table. "I don't need them to have a good time… Not at all…"

By the time Alejandro made it the table, it was completely empty.

Courtney had decided to… (1)

* * *

[**Sycamore Forest, present time**]

"The General who is after us is…." Duncan drew slowly, eyes wide.

"Missing!" Harold's image replied triumphantly. "It looks like someone took him out and kidnapped him or something like that… I mean, I could've done it myself, but it's nice to know that someone else is on our side…"

"Right." Duncan rolled his eyes. "Are you sure it's not just a trick or something?... Is the General the one that Tyler is under?"

"Uh, about that…" Harold's image grimaced. "Yeah… he wasn't put in a General's Platoon… He's just a regular Military Police Officer."

"What, seriously?!" Gwen shouted in exasperation. "I don't know why I'm surprised…"

"Uh, who's Tyler?" Sam asked, curious.

"He's a spy they have in The Empire." Sierra answered, much to Gwen, Harold, and Duncan's surprise.

"It's kind of scary how easily she gets her hands on our information…" Gwen drew slowly, eyebrows raised; she paused and then turned towards Harold's image saying: "By the way, we're tracking down an information broker that seems to know a thing or two about the Generals. Tell the others to meet with us at Seton City if they can!"

"What? Why didn't you guys tell me about that?" Harold exclaimed in an annoyed tone. "Gosh!"

"Whatever, Doris." Duncan scoffed.

"By the way," Harold coughed, suddenly feeling awkward, "I'm going to the Red Light District to see if I can recruit anyone else… It's a pretty messed up place, but I'm sure that I can handle it… Yeah..."

"Alright, Doris." Duncan shrugged, not really listening. Everyone else that stood beside him, however, gaped in horror and surprise at Harold's announcement. They were all certain that he wouldn't even last a day in the District.

"Good-by—

Duncan shoved the cellcard into his pocket before Harold could bid his farewell.

"Anyways…"

Zoey, who had been mulling to herself quietly, poked her head up as the cellcard conversation ended. She couldn't keep her mind off of what the passing officers had been talking about. From what she could understand, they were rounding up mana-users like cattle. It didn't sit well with her in the least bit. However, she didn't want to disturb the others with her problems.

Rubbing her arm ever so slightly, she… (2)

* * *

[**Red Light District, present time**]

Dawn had turned right in the fork in the roads and now found herself standing next to a particular building in the Red Light District.

Night had fallen by the time she had finally arrived at the District; and she realized, as she rounded the corner, that the true face of the District came out at night.

Floating, enchanted bulbs of neon light floated flickeringly across the occupied street corners. These said street corners were occupied by all kinds of people: women and men dressed in tight and revealing clothing, just waiting for a stranger to pay them for their services; groups of adolescents and sometimes even adults subtly handing each other bags of enchanted drugs and medicine in exchange for money; men and women exchanging illegal enchanted weapons; and thugs sauntering around glaring at everyone who met their eyes. The place had a dark aura, the girl knew this. But, the darkest of auras of the District was hidden just beneath her feet.

It was horrid.

She closed her eyes for a moment in an attempt to shut out the foulness from beneath her. It was of no use however and she felt her knees begin to buckle.

Suddenly, a warm light stroked against her cheek. Lifting her head up, she saw a young slightly tan and muscular young man looking at her. He wore a black jacket above his blue shirt and had a cool aura about himself. This cool aura contrasted with the blue flame that danced above his palm.

"Sorry, Miss." the young man apologized with a well-mannered and laidback expression. "Almost burned you for a second there."

How could she have forgotten? The District wasn't just a place of corruption — it was a safe haven for mana-users.

"Why are you ganging up on that poor girl for, Leon?" came a questioning and sassy drawl. Out from the darkness appeared a large and bodacious young woman with dark hair tied in a tight-weaving ponytail. The woman glanced down at Dawn with a kind smile. "What are y'doing wandering around this place at night for, honey?" She looked around hands on hips with a disapproving frown. "This place can get real dangerous when the sun goes down…"

"I'm not ganging up on anyone, Leshawna." Leon shrugged in turn, as the flame in his hand dissipated. He turned his dark head and looked back to where the woman had come from. "Are we the only ones who are heading out?"

"If I let the others come with us," the woman, Leshawna, drew out with a sigh, "then there'll be a big fight for sure. The others would beat the living lights out of the Jerseys. I've got them on back up though."

"Your aura is wonderously large and loud." Dawn complimented suddenly with a kind smile.

"Say what now?!" Leshawna scowled, looking obviously offended at the comment.

"Oh!" Dawn murmured, shaking her head at the woman's reaction. "It's wonderfully inspiring and suits you well!"

"Thanks… I guess…" Leshawna responded slowly, relaxing ever so slightly as she raised an eyebrow in a suspecting manner. "Anyways, you better run along, girl; things might be getting ugly soon."

"Do you mean you're fight with the collection of wealthy people in the northern area of the District?" Dawn pipped with a tilt of her head. "They're not the ones behind the kidnapping incidents in the least bit."

"Huh," Leon straightened at this comment and turned on the girl, a calculating expression plastering over his face, "and how do you know that?"

"Are you with those Jerseys?" Leshawna questioned, eyes narrowed, arms now crossed. "You honestly don't look the type. How did you know about our friends goin' missing?"

"I'm not with them; no." Dawn shook her head in response. "And I could tell by the aura surrounding this entire area and by the thoughts running across your mind that your friends were missing."

"You're a mana-user?"

Dawn nodded.

"I've honestly never heard of a mana-user being able to read minds and auras." Leon admitted with a cool shrug, eyebrows still raised. "How—

"Alright, I trust you, girl." Leshawna nodded approvingly. When she recieved a look from Leon, she explained further: "I have a bullshit detector and this girl isn't even making the radar go off the slightest bit."

"Alright, if you say so…" Leon shrugged once more; his eyes, however, remained calculating and sharp.

"So, what's your name, honey?" Leshawna asked, extending her hand outwards towards the smaller girl.

"It's Dawn." the girl answered, accepting the friendly gesture kindly.

"So, Dawn," Leshawna began looking around the area suspiciously, "you were saying that the Jerseys weren't the ones doing this?"

"Some of their members have disappeared as well." Dawn nodded. "Their anguish is just as strong as yours…. They… They are actually heading this way this very moment."

"What?!" Leshawna exclaimed in surprise. "Seriously?"

"Yes…" Dawn replied, eyes drifting towards three shadows that were drawing nearer around the street corner. "They've come to question you about the disappearance of their members as well…"

A thick and sickeningly sweet scent drifted into the air. This scent was quickly followed by a distinct spraying sound and the clopping of footsteps. From the lane across from them, the conversing trio found themselves staring at a large poof of dark hair. This said dark hair was coated in a thick layer of hair spray that was still being applicated by a very tan hand.

"Well, look who's here." came a thick and accented voice. "If it ain't Leshawna and her favorite bodyguard… And a little girl too?"

"Anne Marie." Leshawna acknowledged with a slight nod of the head. "And what do you think you're doing on _our _turf without our permission?"

Before Leshawna, Dawn, and Leon stood a group of three: the orange-skinned young woman who had addressed them, a tall adolescent with deep green eyes and short brown hair, and a tattoo-covered, muscular man.

"Your _turf_?" Anne Marie scoffed tossing her can of hairspray into the tall adolescent's hand. "_You're_ the ones who went on _our_ turf t'nick some of our guys!"

"Hey, we did no such thing!" Leshawna shouted back, bobbing her head side to side. "Our guys are missing too!"

"Huh?" Anne Marie blanched at this statement. She shared a quick glance with her companions who shrugged beside her. "You betta' not be lyin, Sista' Bad-hair-day."

"Oh! You did not just say that!" Leshawna growled, rolling up her sleeves. "I did _not_ just get told off by a chick whose hair is stickier than my mama's cheese-glue soup!"

"What did you say to me?!" Anne Marie exclaimed, her eyes beginning to flare up with unspeakable rage; she balled her fists up and marched over to where Leshawna stood, jabbing a finger at the other woman's chest with every syllable of her next spoken words: "No one. Insults. The. Poof."

Leshawna smacked her hand out of the way with a hiss, "Don't you go pointing that orange-painted finger of yours at me!"

"You did not just say that!" Anne Marie gasped, before she moved to push up her jacket sleeve as well. "Why y'little—

"G-Guys…" the tall adolescent from Anne Marie's side stuttered, before her green eyes flashed irritably.

"You all need to calm down—-" Leon began coolly as he approached the two warring young women, just before he was knocked out by both of their simultaneous punches. His body hit the ground with a thud and he groaned loudly.

By this time, a crowd had begun to gather around Dawn and the two warring gangs. The crowd swayed back and forth, watching.

Leshawna and Anne Marie were now pulling at each other's hair while simultaneously throwing blows to each other's stomachs. Dawn, Leon, and Anne Marie's companions did not move to help, because something else commanded their attention.

"Damn, girl," Leshawna panted as she attempted to get a firmer grip on Anne Marie's hair, "what's your hair made of? Iron?"

"I could say the same thing t'you." Anne Marie panted back as she aimed another punch. "It's like my hands are diggin' through a jungle or somethin'!"

"Guys!" Anne Marie's companions and Leon shouted in unison, finally getting the duo's attention.

"What?!" the duo snapped back simultaneously.

That was when they noticed it: the crowd. It wasn't the crowd itself that disturbed them, however, it was the crowd's nature. Everyone within the gathered group wore cloaks and flowery robes that fluttered in the wind as they swayed back in forth. Their faces were painted on with stretching smiles, their eyes as wide as saucers. Their mouths opened and closed in unison, yet no sound came out.

Leshawna and Anne Marie immediately released their grips of each other and lowered their high-held fists.

"'Ey, what are y'lookin' at, huh?" Anne Marie shouted at the crowd, much to Leshawna's chagrin. "There's nothin' t'see here." She began to walk over to the left side of the crowd, making shooing motions. "Get outta here; this is personal!"

"Wait, Anne…" Leshawna began warningly, putting out a hand to stop her. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"What?" the girl blanched, glancing at the other's grip on her wrist. "And why not?" Her sharp gaze returned to the crowd before her; it was a gaze that widened when the crowd changed entirely before her.

For a second, the entirety of the gathered group flickered like a dying light. In that flickering moment, the bodies of the members of the crowd were dyed a deep unmistakable shade of red.

"What the…"

The crowd then flickered out of existence completely, like they had not even been there in the first place.

The five adolescents who were a part of separate gangs swiveled their heads around wildly, not noticing that they were receiving strange looks from passersby and shady drug dealers and prostitutes who were lounging around the street corners. Dawn on the other hand stood still, contemplating and considering.

"Hey," Leshawna called out to a man who was leaning on the wall of a building a couple feet away from them, "did you see that?"

"See...what?" The man answered with a question.

"The creepy cultist guys who were standing here a couple minutes ago!" Anne Marie explained irritably.

"No…?" The man answered with a question yet again; he then shook his head and stalked off, muttering under his breath about 'crazy kids'.

"What _was_ that then?" Leon frowned. "Unless we've all taken the same type of enchanted hallucinogenic drug, I'm one-hundred percent sure that that was real."

"They…" Dawn spoke up suddenly, head tilted with her finger cupping chin, "They didn't have auras and I couldn't read their thoughts…"

"And who's this?" Anne Marie gestured vaguely towards Dawn's petite form.

"Her name is Dawn." Leshawna explained. "We came across her a couple of minutes before you guys came along. She can read auras and minds apparently."

"I've neva' heard of a mana-user doin' that." Anne Marie frowned with distrust. "Sounds a bit suspicious t'me."

"I strongly believe the people we just saw," Dawn began, ignoring the small conversation unfolding before her, "have something to do with the disappearance of your friends."

"Wait, wait, wait." Anne Marie drew slowly; she held up a hand in the air. "You're tellin' me y'know somethin' about our missin' guys?"

Dawn began to nod ever so slightly, before something out of the corner of her eyes caught her attention. It was a red figure — a creature of some sort.

Red hair, red skin, red eyes.

A smile that stretched all the way across its crimson face.

Leshawna, Leon, Anne Marie, and the latter's companions seemed to have noticed the figure to because the way they held themselves changed immediately. They all tensed, some out of fear and some out of caution.

"Please tell me that I'm not the only one seeing that…"

"He one of your friends?"

Dawn shook her head.

The red figure's grin widened at their change in nature. It then drew its index finger to its ruby lips in a hushing motion, before it pointed to the ground below them with a shake of its head.

Seeing this,... (3)

* * *

**A/N: **Huzzah! Another long chappie again! I would've posted this yesterday, but I was feeling really sick and nauseous again. /sighs. ;c... Well, he different types of mana-users were explained in this chapter! Huzzah. What did you think?

Anyways, I would like to make an announcement:

Starting from now, certain story choices will lead to character death. So choose wisely, friends!

Reader's Choice (3 this time!):

1. Courtney had…

A. followed the spying five.

B. gone to tell the authorities about the spying five.

C. reclined to her room to work on her campaign for her seat in the Council.

2. Rubbing her arm ever so slightly, [Zoey]…

A. ...questioned: "What about the mana-users the soldiers were talking about…?"

B. ...said in a hard voice: "We need to help the mana-users the officers are rounding up!"

C. ...looked down and said nothing, not wanting to provoke the annoyance of her newly found friends.

3. Seeing this…

A. Leshawna walked right up to the figure, hands on hips, and inquired if the said figure had anything to do with her missing friends.

B. Anne Marie, after acquiring her hairspray can from her companion, approached the figure with angry eyes.

C. Dawn approached the figure cautiously and sympathetically.

D. the gathered six stood still and observed.

Btw, do you guys like it when I write out responses to your reviews like I did in chapter 5? Or is that a pet peeve of yours?

Additionally, winter break has started so that means many updates! Huzzah! I've realized just now that this fic is like the longest fic I have ever written. I usually get bored with my stories after a while and stop writing them altogether, but I think that I might actually finish this one!


	9. It's a Cult?

- 8-

Route x AAD

* * *

[**Red Light District**]

No one dared to move.

The red thing grinned wider at their careful and guarded expressions.

"Aw, hell naw." Leshawna muttered under her breath. "Someone please tell me this ain't some horror movie or something."

"You're hair is a horror movie." Anne Marie commented, eyes planted on the red figure.

"What did you just say?"

"Ah, my bad; I can't help it."

"I believe the being is trying to tell us something." Dawn drew suddenly.

"What?" Anne Marie frowned, gesturing wildly to the red figure. "Are you telekinetically talkin' to it or somethin'?"

"Telepathically." Leon corrected.

"Whatever." Anne Marie muttered to herself; she returned her gaze to Dawn's contemplative face. "Well?"

"No," Dawn shook her light head, "it's not thinking any thoughts at all, but the… feeling it's giving is a beckoning one."

The figure nodded slowly, as if agreeing to Dawn's statement. Its grin then faded into a thin line. Swaying for a moment, it turned its head in the direction of an alleyway that stood opposite from where Anne Marie and her gang had came from. It gestured in the alley's general direction, before it followed through with the gesture, walking towards the area with a half-skip.

"You have got to be kidding me." Leshawna blanched. "Don't tell me that thing wants us to follow it, 'cause that isn't happening."

"I think that being has something to do with your missing friends as well." Dawn whispered, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "It doesn't have an aura like the other apparitions that appeared before us."

"Yeah, I heard you say that before." Anne Marie whispered, eyes locked onto the alleyway where the red figure stood waiting; she placed a hand on her hip. "What did y'mean by that?"

"I believe that they are essences left behind by a strong emotional event." Dawn answered, her eyes drifting around the area and taking in the fact that passersby were walking around like nothing had occurred.

"Like a ghost…?" the tall adolescent belonging to Anne Marie's gang whispered in a quiet voice.

"Yes, Avery," Dawn confirmed, surprising the girl, "like ghosts." She paused, allowing her gaze to drift towards the awaiting red creature. "Has anything horrific occurred recently?"

"Well, honey," Leshawna began, eyebrow raised, "this _is_ the Red Light District afterall."

"I see." Dawn nodded, before she turned to fully face the five adolescents. "You wish to find your friends?"

"Of course we do!" Anne Marie shouted loudly, startling the jaywalkers around them. "What d'ya think we're here for anyways?"

"We need to follow that being then."

With that statement Dawn made her way over to the alleyway where the red figure waited. Her walk was graceful — it almost looked like she was floating, rather than walking right into certain death.

"That girl is cray," Leshawna shook her head, before she paused in thought, "but if what she's saying is in the least bit true…"

"Leshawna, don't tell me that you're going to follow her." Leon frowned; he crossed his arms and studied her carefully.

"You go back to where the others are at and tell them everything what's happened so far, Leon." Leshawna ordered in an authoritative yet friendly and amicable tone.

"But, Leshawna…!"

"Don't you go questioning me, boy!" Leshawna pushed, raising a finger and waving it objectively in the air. "I want you to tell the others to continue to look for the others just in case this turns out to be a hoax."

Leon sighed, before he finally nodded with a half-hearted shrug. Turning on his heels, he ran down the road, turned a corner, and disappeared from sight.

"Well," Anne Marie sighed, turning to the duo that had accompanied her and gesturing backwards with a thumb at Leshawna, "same with what she said. And I don't want you protestin' eitha'."

The tall adolescent, Avery, and the muscular man opened their mouths in defiance, but immediately shut them when they received a biting glare. They turned on their heels then and prepared to walk off in the opposite direction when Anne Marie's voice stopped them:

"Hold on, Avery, would you be a doll and hand me back my hairspray?"

The girl obliged and the can found its way back into Anne Marie's tanned fingertips.

"Thanks, honey."

Avery nodded before she bounded off with the muscular man.

"Alright, Leshawna," Anne Marie sighed, dousing her hair with the hairspray, "we goin' then?"

"Listen," the addressed adolescent drew, turning to face the other, "I really hate your guts…"

Anne Marie glowered at this, grip tightening on her hairspray.

"... but we're going to need to trust each other if we're going to go through with this." Leshawna continued. Pausing, she extended a firm hand out in Anne Marie's direction. "We'll put our differences aside — personal and gang-related — for now, deal?"

Anne Marie stared at the hand for a short moment in consideration, before she firmly took it up herself with a toughened smile, "You got yourself a deal."

* * *

[**Capital City, Military District, Principle Tower, in front of the Council Room**]

The trip to the Council Room had been long and cold. All of the mana-fueled trailways of the city had been temporarily shutdown for the Military Academy's reception party, so Izzy had — with her shivering Lieutenant General at her side — had to walk the full several mile stretch from the Reception Hall to the Principle Tower. And from there she had to walk up several stretching staircases to the top floor of the tower: the Council Room.

The door leading to the said room was guarded by a man and a woman of similar stature and appearance. They both wore red uniforms that were adorned in gold.

They were the Council's personal lapdogs.

When Izzy and her Lieutenant General approached the doors, the two lapdogs turned on them, swords drawn from their waist.

"State your…" began the female one.

"... name and purpose." finished the male.

"Come on, guys!" Izzy exclaimed with a grin. "You know who I am! We're like B.F.F.s! Remember that one time after the reception party a couple years ago when I came up here half-naked? Hahahaha, good times. Good times."

The two did not budge, keeping on their blank expressions.

"Come on, I thought we had something special! Unless I'm just delusional or something. Actually, if I am delusional, I blame it on my great uncle Higgins! He was one cray-cray dude."

"Name…"

"... and purpose."

"Fine; I see how it is." Izzy began, looking away from them in a childish manner with her arms crossed; her face then melded into a serious one, and she looked at them, chin raised: "Name: General Izzy Burns; purpose: requested."

"Identification…"

"...required."

"Why don't you go back to the Reception Hall, Billy?" Izzy suggested, digging into her uniform pocket and handing the female guard her black identification card.

"My name is… Bobby…" her Lieutenant General corrected, looking both crestfallen and relieved at the same time. "And are you sure, ma'am?"

"Grab me some of the fancy pistachios they have over there while you're at it, Jeremiah!" Izzy continued, watching as the two guards looked over the given I.D.

"H-Hey, that name isn't even close to 'Bobby'!" the Lieutenant retorted, face flushed. He paused for a moment, assessed the serious look Izzy was giving him, and complied, giving her a small wave as he departed.

"See ya, Bibby!"

"It's… nevermind. I'll see you later, General."

Izzy watched as her Lieutenant's figure disappeared from sight, before she returned her attention to the two guards standing before her. They met her gaze and returned her I.D. Keeping that same eye contact, the duo lowered their drawn swords and pushed open the doors.

The room behind the twin doors was a small, albeit ornate one. A large and wooden circular table sat at the center of the room on an oriental-looking red carpet. The table was piled on with stacks of papers, several ballpoint pens, and six glasses of water. Surrounding the table were numerous leather chairs, most of which were filled by men and women dressed in business-like attire.

"Welcome…"

"...General Burns."

"Y'know the way you guys are finishing each other's sentences is_ so_ cool by the way." Izzy responded, not following through with their gestures towards the room. "Wait, can I try too? Wait a second, you guys say something first—-

"General Burns!" called a voice from within the room with urgency.

"Izzy is coming!" the addressed General shouted back with a roll of her eyes. "Be patient; yeesh!" She glanced at the female guard as she walked by and shook her head saying, "People these days: so disrespectful, am I right?"

The guards did and said nothing, returning their gaze to the hall and stairway.

Shrugging, Izzy entered the room where she was immediately greeted by seven pairs of eyes. The warmest of these eyes, which belonged to the woman who sat at the deemed "head" of the table, acknowledged her.

"Hello, Miss Burns," the woman greeted, "we were just getting started." She inclined her brown and graying hair towards an empty seat that was fitted in between a distinctly Hispanic-looking man and a woman who wore a uniform similar to Izzy's own.

Leaping over the table with a somersault, much to the dissatisfaction of the seven who had yet to greet her, Izzy landed on her seat with a thud, catching several sheets of paper that had been uplifted into the air by her movements.

She allowed her gaze to drift across the room and identified all those who surrounded her from left to right.

Michael Burrosmuerto — Head of Diplomacy.

Daniel McClean — Head of Treasury.

Sarah Wilkins — Head of Science and Mana-Relations.

James Hartwick — Head of Human Services.

Mellany Tade, the woman who had addressed Izzy — Head of… Izzy actually didn't know what the woman was head of.

Hana Roswell — Head of Community Developments.

Gilderoy Samuels — Head of Defense.

Empty chair.

Second General Eva Hastings.

"So," Izzy began, as she let her gaze fall onto the papers in her hands, "Mal is missing…"

"Yes, he is." Mr. Burrosmuerto agreed, folding his hands on the table before him. "And I suggest that we keep a tight lip on this predicament, unless we want the countries bordering us — Pahkitew in particular — to gain knowledge of that."

"How do we even know that he's actually missing?" Eva grumbled under her breath. "He could have just wandered off on his own. And that just pisses me off!" She clenched her fists.

"We have an eye-witness account." Mr. Hartwick explained. "Do you remember the soldier who accompanied Mal in his search —- Lightning was his first name if I recall correctly…"

A loud banging sound echoed above their heads suddenly, causing all seven eyes to rise up towards the ceiling.

"Must be the damn rats again." Mr. Samuels grimaced; he glanced across the table at Izzy and Eva. "That new janitor you guys hired is doing an even worse job than that Hatchet guy that retired."

Izzy and Eva visibly started at the mention of the latter name.

"Anyways," Hartwick pressed on, causing everyone's attention — save for Izzy's which was still glued to the ceiling — to return to the situation at hand, "Lightning and a stationed officer at Schaffer Port claimed to have been at a — and I quote — 'a dudes' hangout' — before an incident involving an injured civilian caused them to leave Mal's side. When they returned, he was gone. They waited several days for him to return, but he never did."

"Am I safe to assume that they told no one of this occurrence besides us?" questioned lightly.

Hartwick nodded in confirmation.

"Second Lieutenant General Armin Yaeger is handling things in the Second Platoon right now." Samuels interjected. "He's telling everyone that the General is on a much needed vacation."

"Alright." Mrs. Tade nodded with a warm smile. "That's very good." She allowed her gaze to drift towards Samuels's face. "If I am correct, Mal was sent out on a mission involving the large group of rebels down south?"

"Yes." Samuels confirmed. "I'm thinking that his disappearance has to do something with them."

"The rebels?" Mrs. Wilkins interjected, voice coming to a squeak. "Are you sure? I mean, the day before he went down sound there were a string of robberies in the town over. What if the robbers from there came to Schaffer Port and abducted him?"

"I mean no offense when I say this, , but I don't think that is possible." Tade shook her gray-brown hair. "Anyways, I believe General Strauss is perfectly capable of defending himself from a couple of robbers; he is a General afterall."

Eva clicked her tongue at this.

"Let's not make assumptions." Tade finished. "Our main suspect at this moment is most definitely the rebel group."

"Actually," Hartwick brought up suddenly, "Mr. Lightning and the officer stationed at the port claimed that a girl was in the same room as Mr. Strauss at the time that they left him."

"A girl?" Tade pressed on.

"She was gone by the time the two returned; I thought that she had just left just because," Hartwick explained further, "but now that I think about it, it does seem kind of suspicious. I could have the two talk to a sketch artist."

"Yes, that would be wonderful!" Tade gushed; she paused, recollecting her thoughts. "Where are our two witnesses right now?"

"In this very building in the resting room." Hartwick informed.

"I suggest that we send a small search party after the General right at this moment." Mrs. Roswell spoke suddenly, lips pursed together. "We need to get to this problem before it gets too out of hand. And of course, we can't have local officers on the lookout or the word would get out, so," she looked towards Izzy and Eva, "wouldn't it be sensible if we sent out another one of our Generals instead?"

"No!" Tade shouted suddenly, causing all eyes to turn on her. Flustered, she quickly regained her composure. "What if another one of our Generals goes missing?"

"Speaking of which," Samuels rudely interrupted, "how do we even know if Mal is still alive?"

"There's no way Maly'll get killed that easily!" Izzy pipped, finally lowering her eyes from the ceiling; she turned, nudging Eva in the shoulder. "Right, Eva?"

Eva grumbled: "I don't know; I don't care. I just want to get this damn meeting over with!"

"Our best option at the moment is to believe that he is alive and to send someone after him." Mr. Burrosmuerto said, a calculating look flashing in his eyes. "That is our best option until we get this whole affair settled out."

"We could just get Lieutenant General Yaeger to take his place." Hartwick suggested. "Or we could just put him as the head of the search party."

"That won't do us any good." Samuels sighed. "The boy is too inexperienced."

"Sending out another General would just be unwise." Tade pressed on. "Anyways—

"I'll go." Izzy said suddenly, a strange smile on her face. "I'll search for him. I'll bring my best guys with me too, so y'don't have to worry about me getting Izzy-napped! Anyways, I am _so_ skilled at hunting people down — it's like a genetic trait!"

"All in favor?" Roswell questioned, eyebrows raised.

"I." all, save for Tade and Eva, echoed with arms raised.

"Majority rule. Then it is all settled." Roswell said, coming to a stand.

"Izzy," Samuels addressed, coming to a stand as well, "you should set out as soon as possible."

"'Course! Gotta go fast!" Izzy pipped; a sneaky expression spread over her face. "I have to create my perfect taskforce first! Bwuahahaha!"

She received strange looks, but she continued to laugh nonetheless.

"Yeah, whatever." Eva grumbled, her nails digging into arms; she glared at Tade. "Are we dismissed or what?"

Tade looked at her pointedly for a moment, a strange an arid look crossing her face. She then nodded her head ever so slightly, saying: "Meeting adjourned; enchanted voice recording system ending at ten thirty-five. Next meeting to be held in three days — all in favor?"

"I." They all called — save for Eva who had already exited the room.

Slowly, one by one, they filtered out of the room until all who remained standing within the room were Izzy and Tade. The latter approached the ginger General with a concerned expression, which was quickly countered with a large smile.

"What's up homeslice?" Izzy asked nonchalantly, plopping back into her seat and reclining there with a laidback expression. "Somethin' a' matter?"

"Are you sure you want to be in the search party for Mal?" Tade asked slowly, running her hands along the back of the ginger's chair. "It could be dangerous. You could go missing as well — won't you reconsider?"

"Nah!" Izzy chuckled. "It's all good."

"Alright," Tade said, albeit a bit thickly and with a dark glint in her eye, "I'll be leaving then."

With that demeanor she departed, not even sparing a look back. Izzy didn't mind it though — in fact, she didn't even notice it. Her attention was focused elsewhere: on a ventilation shaft that protruded for a corner up near the ceiling.

"Esquire senses a disturbance in the force," she muttered to herself suddenly, hopping onto the round table, "and searches for the prey." She flicked her head around, causing her hair to fly everywhere. "She readies herself..." She entered a crouching position, "...and strikes!"

With a loud enunciation of the latter word, Izzy pounced, jumping into the air with a high-kick. A loud screeching sound echoed throughout the room as her foot tore right through the bottom of the protruding ventilation shaft. A collection of six screams followed, the whole cacophony ending with the thuds of six individuals upon the ground — two wearing white uniforms, one wearing a gray uniform, and three girls dressed in dresses.

"Oh!" Izzy grinned, jumping up and down with a clap. "I got the grand prize!" Her good-natured expression dropped at the moment, and she looked down at the fallen group. She then… (1)

* * *

[**Sycamore Road, present time**]

Rubbing her arm ever so slightly, Zoey questioned: "What about the mana-users that the soldiers were talking about?"

Her inquiry earned expressions of realization and surprise from everyone.

"What about them?" Duncan frowned. "We need to handle _our_ problems first."

"What?!" Sierra screeched, flinging her hands up in the air in rage. "That's totally contradicting the purpose of this group! Don't you remember the reason why you created this rebellion in the first place? Here I'll remind you—-

Duncan cupped his hand over Sierra's mouth, silencing her much to Gwen's own relief.

"We _do_ already have a lot on our plate, Zoey." Gwen agreed, before she frowned as if reconsidering her statement all together. "But…"

"No is no!" Duncan protested. Sierra suddenly bit down hard on his hand, causing him to let out a loud yelp: "Ow! What the hell?!"

"Uh…" Sam murmured, rubbing the back of his head. "I think that we should help them somehow too…" He earned an ecstatic look from Zoey, causing him to blush ever so slightly.

"I don't think it's right to leave the mana-users in their predicament," Cameron put in his own opinion with uncertain eyes, "but Duncan is kind of right, Zoey…"

"Finally!" Duncan shouted. "Someone sees the logic — even if that someone is a total nerd."

"I'll go with whatever you say, Gwen." Cody said as he walked over to Gwen and nudged her in the ribs; this simply earned him a glare, but he continued on nonetheless, albeit with a more nervous tone: "I agree with Zoey though… The reason I joined the rebellion in the first place was to help people."

"That's my Cody!" Sierra cooed; she walked up to him and pulled him up into a tight hug. She then gently stroked his head, causing him to squirm uncomfortably. "My Cody is always doing what's right!"

"I guess that's a majority ruling then." Gwen shrugged — she didn't seem too disappointed.

"Seriously?" Duncan groaned, facepalming. "How are we supposed to help them anyways? We barely have enough weapons and resources!"

"Well, say if we do go through with this," Cameron began slowly, rubbing his chin in thought, "we could always try for an ambush." He glanced at Cody and gestured towards him, "With the enchanted items that your father lent us, we might actually stand a chance!"

"Oh, yeah!" Sierra pipped, jumping up and down. "I can weave a trap for them too! We could jump on them when they come dragging the cart back! And then after that we can disguise ourselves with their uniforms and go into Willowasher Villa and save the mana-users! Oh! Oh! Or, if they end up double-backing and coming back this way with the mana-users in tow, we can ambush them then! And the mana-users would probably help us too! " (2)

"Like _that _would work." Duncan rolled his eyes.

"Actually," Cameron pipped, eyes brightening, "that _could_ work!" (3)

* * *

[**Red Light District, wine cellar of the Bear's Bar**]

A man stood at the center of many. The many stared up at him, eyes shining with excitement, mouths parted into smiles. The man and his awaiting listeners - although varying in size, sex, and skin color - had one thing in common: painted on their heads with red was the symbol of a closed eye.

Beside the man on the ground were a collection of adolescents and children bound and gagged by thick rope. They squirmed in their bondages, eyes red with dried tears. The man and the gathered group paid them no heed, however.

"Today," the man began in a loud and resounding voice, "is the day when we will we revive the ceremony that our great founder Dante Yamell created. The practice of this ceremony, as many of you may know, was ended by an event that occurred nine years ago." He paused, allowing a dramatic silence to fall; after several minutes of this silence, he continued: "The Day of Red Mist they call it! It was such a horrid day, but it was a brilliant day as well."

The crowd whispered among themselves, confused.

"That matters not!" the man shouted over them; he then gestured towards the adolescents and children at his feet. "We finally have wonderful gods that will take all our pain away and onto themselves. They are our salvation! They will purify us!"

"Purify us…" the crowd swayed, entranced. "How…?"

"'How'?" the man repeated, his smile morphing into something else altogether. "Let me show you!" He bent down low and observed the bodies squirming on the ground, allowing his hand to drift over them. His hand stopped and hovered over the body of a small girl. The girl's eyes began tearing up at this — she couldn't understand what was going on.

The crowd watched him, confused yet intent.

Suddenly in a large swoop, the man grabbed the girl, holding her up in the air by the neck. There she squirmed kicking and attempting to scream. On the ground, some of the older adolescents squirmed with horror and rage beside him. Ignoring them, the man threw the girl to the ground and began to kick her repeatedly in the stomach, laughing loudly as he did so.

"W-What are you doing…?" a member of the crowd stuttered, asking all of the crowd's questions in one go.

The man paused, raising an eyebrow:

"Whatever do you mean? Isn't it obvious? _This_ god is accepting all of my suffering."

"S-She's just a kid!" stuttered another.

The fallen girl peered into the crowd with a hopeful expression. Tears continued to burn at her eyes.

"Yes," the man agreed, before his face broke out into an easy going smile, "she is, which means that she is pure; she can take up all of our sins… Don't you all want to be free from suffering?"

The room fell silent at this.

And then, a man stepped forward, stopping only a couple of feet away from the girl and meeting her eyes. The girl looked at him, begging him to speak his mind with shining irises.

"...I want to be free."

The girl's expression fell just as the man's boot collided with her stomach. Over and over again he kicked her.

The crowd chatted amongst themselves. Suddenly, as if being pulled forward by a wave, they too moved forward and joined in with the kicking. And one by one, strange smiles spread over their faces.

"Maya!" came a sudden shout from a single window that looked into the cellar. All heads turned at this shout. And the gathered crowd made out the shape of three figures hovering outside.

"Shit…" another figure in the window muttered. (4)

* * *

[**Arc-Word Chatroom, unknown time**]

Rehmecs: Hey, do you guys want to hear a scary story~?

Funster: oh yea man. im all for scary stories

OreoO: i'm not that good with them but why not? yolo!

KandS: Yeah, we'd totes love to hear one!

MeisterH: I doubt that it'll scare me, but you can try.

Sparklefire67: sure, why not! I love scary stories!

Rehmecs: Okay, so do you guys know about the RLD?

MeisterH: Uh, the Red Light District? Who doesn't?

KandS: omg. that place gives us the creeps!

Rehmecs: They say that over nine years ago, before the whole Day of Red Mist schpeel occurred, there used to be a really large and powerful cult in the place….

Sparklefire67: a cult? You mean like 'cumbyehahahoho' and human sacrifices?

Rehemcs: Exactly. So this cult… their may idea was to achieve complete happiness and peace with themselves…

MeisterH: Huh? That doesn't sound so bad…

Rehemcs: The thing is…. they achieved this happiness by abusing children.

KandS: What?! OMG THATS SO HORRIBLE!

Sparklefire67: oh my god…

Rehemcs: The thing is the abused children were raised being praised about the fact that they were being abused… The children were worshiped because of that. They were taught that it was a good thing…

MeisterH: That's just…. wrong…

Funster: not cool, dude..

Rehemcs: They say, though, that on the Day of Red Mist, one of the children finally snapped. They say that this child was a mana-user and a Mage-class too…

KandS: a mage-class? that's like… really really really really rare and strong right?

Rehmecs: Yeah… So, the child went on a rampage and slaughtered everyone in the cult… and all of the blood from their bodies dyed his own body red… and you know what they said the child said after he/she was done killing everyone…?

Sparklefire67: ...what…? did she say?

Rehemcs: "You're right …...this is fun!"

KandS:that's so creepy!

Rehemcs: That's not the only thing though… They say that to this very day the spirit of that child still wanders the street, still smiling, still hunting for the members of that cult… Some say that the spirits of the villagers and cult members are still there too, so if that holds true, they're spending eternity hiding from that child…

MeisterH: what the hell, man?! That's so messed up!

Rehemcs: Hey, who knows? It might not even be true…. Well good night~! Sleep tight! ;33

_Rehemcs has gone offline._

* * *

**A/N: **Huzzah, another chappie! It's a slightly darker and disturbing chappie, but it's a new one nonetheless! This chapter was mostly dialogue-driven this time… but hey, that ain't so bad… is it?

By the way, what has been your favorite POV so far? Oh! And did you pay attention the last names in this chapter? Those are really important this time around.

Reader's Choice (4 this time including 2 Luck Rolls):

1. [Izzy] then….

A. laughed heartily and let the found group go.

B. blackmailed the discovered group

C. arrested the group for trespassing.

2. The rebels should...

A. Ambush the officers when they drag the cart back, then disguise themselves as the officers, head into Willowasher, and then use their disguises to sneak the mana-users out

B. Assume that the officers will double-back with the cart of mana-users with them, ambush them, and rely on the mana-users' help

3. Luck Roll - one of the numbers below will lead to the rebels being successful with their plan, while the other will lead to their plan failing

A. One

B. Two

4. Luck Roll - a certain number below leads to Leshawna, Dawn, and Anne Marie successfully escaping from the crazy cult members; another number leads to the trio being captured by the cult members… choose wisely!

A.. One

B.. Two

Review Responses -

**phoenixdragon78:** Only a little bit of Courtney in this chappie though… Dx. But she'll play a bigger a role as the story goes on!

**JockShipper: **Having you guys choose what happens next also kinda helps me too.. XD. It helps narrow down which direction this story goes. And thanks! You ship Jock, yus? ;o

**SuperGirlInJeans**: It's okay! There might a chance to revive any deceased characters in later chapters. /nodnod.

**SandraStar66**: Okie! And thanks as well. I was trying to go for the whole mystery aspect about guessing who the characters are… So I hit the mark then? ;o

**BettyCrocker540**: Shucks, your compliments are making me blush XDDD. If any of the characters do seem OOC would you please tell me? ;o. It's kinda hard to keep all of them IC since there are so many of them. XD

**LuhM:** Alright! ;D. Wait, you like Gwent, right?

**Videsa**: Really? I'm sorry DX. I tried my best to explain it… Bluh, my bad. What part was confusing? ;o. Btw, to answer your earlier question: a brotp is like an otp except with bromance. /nodnod.

**MostAwesomeTDFan**: Many thanks! I looked at some of your stories btw. /winkwink.


	10. It's Kind of Bad Luck

- 9 -

Route x ABBA

* * *

[**Willowasher Villa, present time**]

The doctor spun around the large tent, his labcoat ghosting shadows across the ground. Around and around he went dancing for his spectators who sat with their arms folded behind them in front of him. He only paused his dance when he reached a particular spectator who sat at the very back of the tent; this spectator's eyes were glaring and disapproving.

"Oh my, Beverly!" the doctor cooed. "Don't give me that look — it's quite hurtful! It makes it all the more hurtful since I admire you, y'know?"

The addressed adolescent turned his wrists in their strange-looking bronze cuffs with a wince and did not speak a word.

"That beautiful thing around your wrists right there," Okarin explained as he threw an arm over the adolescent's shoulder with a grin, "is a new prototype of ours. It neutralizes seventy-five percent of the mana in a mana-user's bloodstream; for an Enchanter like you, that basically depletes your entire supply!"

B, the silent adolescent, simply narrowed his eyes.

"Still not much of a talker, huh?" Okarin sighed. He straightened himself then and placed his hands on his hips. "You're quite a sneaky one, you are, B. It's always the quiet ones after all." He shrugged to himself, and glanced backwards at the dark adolescent: "Six months ago you tricked me, you did!"

B smirked ever so slightly at this, but kept a cool gaze.

"To think that if you hadn't acted on the trickery or that act of rebelliousness today," Okarin continued with a shake of his head, "that you could be an Empire-Mana-Employee and be working at some Enchanted Bank right at this moment; you were —- and still are — talented. The Empire could have really used you!"

Okarin let out a yelp suddenly and yanked his foot away from where it had been stomped on by B's large leather shoe. B fixed a firm stare at the doctor and shook his head: he would have never agreed to work for the Empire. Beside him, several of the other bound and gagged mana-users snickered.

"I don't see why you're so adamant about your hatred for our home country." Okarin frowned, shaking his foot with a grimace. "To your kind this place might seem like hell, but to others it's considered a home… I guess that ideology doesn't really matter to you anymore, since your going to be shipped off to where the other 'dangerous' mana-users like you," he gestured to the others, "and the like reside."

The flap-door leading to the tent was lifted open and a woman wearing a gray uniform entered the area. The woman glanced around the room, before she finally found her target: Doctor Okarin.

"Doctor, the cart is ready."

* * *

[**The Red Light District, random street corner - present time**]

She peered around the side of the building and immediately retreated when she saw shadowy figures pass across the asphalt road.

"So now we got a couple of creeps chasin' us." Anne Marie muttered under her breath, pressing her back further against the wall. "This is just plain beautiful!"

Leshawna, who was standing right beside her, grunted at this as she tried to quiet her panting breath: "It _could _be worse."

Anne Marie glared at her when she said this, which in turn earned herself a glare as well.

"Look, Miss Priss," Leshawna said thickly, "I'm just tryin' to be positive is all, especially with that big hair of yours bringing down a gloomy atmosphere!"

"What did you just say?! Your just jealous!"

"Just because you're jealous of Leshawna, Anne Marie," Dawn spoke suddenly, tilting her head ever so slightly, "doesn't mean that you always have to pick a fight with Leshawna; that goes the same for you, Leshawna. You two actually have a lot in common."

"What?" Anne Marie and Leshawna gapped in unison.

"Y'tellin me that y'think I'm jealous of jelly-butt ova' here?" Anne Marie hissed, jabbing a finger pointedly in Leshawna's direction.

"Don't you even compare me to this spoiled brat!" Leshawna shouted not at Dawn but at Anne Marie. "Maybe instead of wasting your money on hairspray and fake-ass spray tans, you should actually spend it on something useful: a full body makeover!"

"That is it!" Anne Marie screeched; she turned fully on Leshawna and shoved her against the wall. "I'm sick and tired of you and your southern gang brats of callin' us rich spoiled brats!"

"Well," Leshawna growled, shoving her back and pushing her full force across the alleyway, "maybe what we're saying is true! Did you ever think of that, Clownfish?!"

"We've worked hard to get where we're at, 'scuse me!" Anne Marie shot back bitingly. "Afta' the massacre nine years ago, my family lost everything and my dad just packed up his bags and left! I had t'work off his debts when I was just a toddla'! My gang and I deserve t'be here as much as you guys do!"

Leshawna paused, slightly taken aback at the newly given information, before her face hardened and she said: "That still isn't an excuse for what you've been doing to us these past three years."

"Okay, fine!" Anne Marie shouted. "I apologize, okay?! I just hated how you and your guys seemed to live your lives like everything was all fine and swell!"

"Girl, our lives are anything but fine and swell." Leshawna frowned, her hard look becoming soft. "We just don't let it get us down… I guess our group has been a bit harsh on you guys too… I'm sorry for that."

"Well, I accept your apology — not sure what the guys back home'll think of it though."

"I accept yours too."

"See," Dawn pipped, having watched the entire ordeal from the sidelines, "you two have so much in common like familial issues and whatnot that it's only natural for you two get along."

"Honey," Leshawna frowned disapprovingly down at her, "it's not right of you to go poking around in our heads like that."

"Why not?" Dawn frowned back at her, an unusually confused expression plastered over her face. Leshawna and Anne Marie peered at her, they themselves shocked at the fact of the girl's pure confusion. They exchanged glances.

"Because—-

"Hey!" came an unknown voice. "I think I hear them over there!"

"I suggest we split up." Dawn whispered quietly. "It'll be harder for them to capture us that way."

Before Leshawna and Anne Marie could input their own opinions on the idea, Dawn sprinted off in the direction opposite from where the voices had come from.

"Does that girl have twinkle toes or what?" Anne Marie blanched with an incomprehensible shake of her head, placing a hand on her hip. She turned towards an alleyway that opened up to the left and headed towards it with a shrug, before she was abruptly stopped by Leshawna's hand around her wrist. "What d'ya want?" she shot back.

"There's no way these guys'll stop chasing us." Leshawna said slowly, jerking her thumb backwards with a shake of her head; the voices drew even nearer. "We need to handle this problem ourselves."

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Anne Marie frowned, her voice becoming panicked as the sound of footsteps echoed just around the corner.

"Bring as many of your guys as you can," Leshawna ordered, releasing her grip on the other adolescent, "and bring them to Mekaku Corner."

"What? Why?" Anne Marie frowned. "That place is practically abandoned!"

"I know! That's the point!"

"And how do I know that you won't just abandon us there and have those cultist freaks take us out?" Anne Marie pressed on, eyes narrowing.

"You just have to trust me!"

With that, the two parted ways.

* * *

[**Capital City, Military District, just outside of Principle Tower - thirty minutes earlier]**

"Climb through the vents?" Heather screeched. "Are you kidding me?"

There the group of six huddled right behind the black-bricking of Principle Tower, staring with mixed expressions at the silver protruding vent before them.

The night sky was pitch black with no stars in sight. A chilly wind blew from the north which was blocked from the six by the structure of the tower. The tower's being was illuminated by the dimly-glowing floating lights that drifted throughout the area. The lights seemed to buzz loudly in the deafening silence of the District like a swarm of flying insects.

"I agree with Heather." Courtney said firmly beside her. "Crawling through that _thing_ is totally unsanitary!"

"It isn't that bad." Lindsay laughed with a kind roll of the eyes.

"And how would you know?" Courtney questioned, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Well," Lindsay began to explain, "Heather had me snea—

She was silenced by both Heather and Tyler with an elbow to the stomach from the first and a silencing and cupping hand over the mouth from the latter.

"—-mmff!"

"Well, forget this!" Courtney pronounced snidely, folding her arms and turning her head. "_I'm_ going home!"

"Courtney!" called Brick, who was working on unscrewing the nails that kept the metal covering of the vent in place, in protest.

"Same here." Heather nodded, lifting her head up high. "There's no way that I'm going in that cramped space with you losers! Come on Lindsay; we're leaving!"

"But, Heather...!" pouted Lindsay.

"Lindsay." Heather repeated thickly.

"You should go with her." Tyler said from beside the blonde, placing a hand on her shoulder and brushing a strand of golden hair out of her face. "Leave the sneaking to us experienced soldiers!"

Lindsay looked at Tyler's kind expression with uncertainty, before her gaze shifted to Heather's disapproving expression. She fiddled with her hands nervously.

"Come on, Lindsay!" Courtney said with a comforting smile, coming up beside her. "If we follow these guys with their stupid plan, we might get in trouble! You don't want that, do you?"

"I don't want to get in trouble, but…"

"Come on, then!" Courtney grinned, leading her over to where Heather was standing impatiently.

Together, the three began to make their way towards the gates leading to the District. However, before they could take their third step, rough hands pulled them back by the scruff. These rough hands belonged to none other than Jo:

"And where do you think you're going?"

"Let go of me!" Courtney yelled, flailing wildly in the air.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Heather growled, kicking backwards in an attempt to lay one on the military woman.

"You're pulling my dress, Jo!" Lindsay complained, following a completely different note.

"I don't trust you guys enough to believe that you're not going to go run your mouths off about us." Jo said haughtily, eyebrows furrowed and mouth curled up into a smile.

"Hey!" came Tyler, bounding up to her with crossed arms. "Let them go!"

"Jo," Brick sighed, having finally managed to detach the vent's metal covering, "don't force them to go if they don't want to."

"Yeah!" Courtney grimaced, arms crossed; she threw a look at Brick with a slender eyebrow raised. "Why are you helping her sneak into the Council Room anyways? Weren't you talking about how it was against 'regulations' earlier?"

"Jo was… very convincing…"

"Yeah, whatever, loverboy," Heather rolled her eyes and jerked a thumb in Jo's direction, "just tell your woman to lay off of me!"

"She's not…"

Before Heather, Courtney, and Lindsay could protest any further, Jo — with all three of them still tight in her grasps — bounded over to the open vent and threw them in like they were nothing more than ragdolls.

"Why you….!"

"Start crawling or I'll kick you myself!" Jo ordered.

"I'll get you back for this, she-man!" Heather growled murderously under her breath, before she shoved Courtney (who had been shoved into the vent first) forward. "Move it!"

With that, one by one they filtered into the ventilation shaft, pushing, shoving, and complaining to each other their entire way towards their destination.

...

And now? In present time?

The six found themselves staring up at a woman with wild orange hair dressed in a black military-uniform in the Council Room. The dust and debris from the broken ventilation shaft above their heads rained down on their sweaty bodies like snow.

Courtney felt like she could just about cry.

"Brick, Jo!" the ginger-haired woman grinned maniacally, jumping down low to look at the two white-wearing adolescents at eye-level. "Fancy seeing you two here!" Her emerald gaze drifted to the others behind them, causing the said others to freeze up with fear. "Did you two bring a party up here just for me?!"

Courtney was both confused and terrified at the same time. Was this woman for real?

"W-We can explain, General!" Brick stuttered on the ground beside her, before coming to a stand and drawing his hand up into a salute. "W-We were just…"

"Eavesdropping?" the woman pressed, her smile growing into a frown. "You can be executed for such a thing, y'know? The chopping-block! Duhn-duhn-duhn."

"W-We weren't eavesdropping." Lindsay spoke up frantically, "We don't even have any eaves to drop, see!" She extended her hands outwards to show the General that she had nothing in her hands. Courtney nearly facepalmed at this.

Strangely, however, the General leaned forward and examined Lindsay's empty palm carefully, before she broke out into a smile that did not match her eyes:

"Oh my gosh; you're totally right!" the General spoke, clapping her hands together. "I can't believe that I thought you guys were eavesdropping!" She dropped her hands then, peering into all six of their shocked faces. "I would've actually cut your heads off right here and right now if you guys were carrying eaves!"

"...Is this a joke?" Heather murmured; she paused to shove Lindsay — who had fallen on top of her — off of her stomach.

"Is it funny?" the General pressed back, eyebrows raised in a quizzically honest manner.

"...No?"

"Then it isn't!" the woman pipped; her eyes narrowed then, and her lips curled back like the lips of an animal. "Now scaddaddle!"

The group of six did not move, all too shocked to even twitch a muscle.

"Now!" the General growled in a feral-like manner, pulling her arms up childishly as if they were claws. "RAWR!"

And with that, the six scrambled to a stand and darted out of the room. Down the stairs they went, screaming bloody murder until they reached the outside area of the Tower. Once there, they slowed themselves to a stop.

"I can't believe she let us go!"

"Yeah… She's just as crazy as she looks…"

"Hey," panted Brick suddenly, "where's Tyler?"

"Oh," Lindsay pipped beside him, brushing off several strands of hair that clung with sweat to her face, "he left right when we got here; he said that he had to make a call… or something…"

* * *

[**The Red Light District, Mekaku Corner - present time**]

Mekaku Corner was an open area of District built out of cobblestone and brick. It, unlike the rest of the city, had never been renovated and improved as the world had evolved.

The Corner had a circular shape, old yet tall rickety buildings rising from all areas around except from the one entry way — the entry way that Anne Marie and practically the entire cult now found themselves running along.

The running group broke into the open area at a breakneck pace. The cult members then swarmed around Anne Marie like insects, forming a full circle around her. She looked at them all, eyes narrowed and glaring.

"Y'freaks betta' get away from me or else!"

A man, the leader of the cult, stepped forward from the crowd, a grin painting his face:

"There is no need for such harshness." the man spoke serenely. "You must be relaxed if you are to become a sacrifice for us."

"I ain't becoming no sacrifice!" Anne Marie spat back, slapping the man right across the face as he came closer to her.

"Well, that's unfortunate then." the man said thickly, rubbing his cheek. "I guess you're going to have to die then."

"No, I ain't!" Anne Marie shot back, raising a signaling hand up in the air.

The doors and windows of the buildings surrounding the Corner swung open and groups of well-dressed adolescents peered out from them, enchanted-weapons raised and ready in their hands.

"You poor children." the man sighed with a shake of his head, before he too rose his hand in the air. "You need to be taught a lesson." The many cult members around Anne Marie also drew out enchanted guns and blades and the like from their waists and pockets, aiming the weapons in all different directions. "We outnumber you by many; you might as well give up here and now."

"Damnit, Leshawna," Anne Marie muttered angrily under her breath, "I trusted you and look where it got me!"

"I think you've got that wrong, crazy guy!" came an echoey voice from entrance alleyway.

Suddenly, like a fast-moving wave, dozens upon dozens of baggy-clothes-wearing adolescents filtered around and fully surrounded the cult members; all of these adolescents had enchanted weapons in hand. It soon became apparent who outnumbered who.

"Did I really see," continued the voice as its owner pushed through the crowd of cultists and walked right over to Anne Marie's side, "you dumbasses mess with a soul-sister of mine?!"

"Y'came!" Anne Marie broke out into a grin, restraining herself from hugging Leshawna who stood before her.

"'Course I did, girl." Leshawna nodded like it was nothing.

"Enough of this!" the cultist leader shouted in rage as he shook his head. He turned to the now nervous-looking cult members around him and spread his arms out wide. "Worry not, my friends! Fate has simply given us more sacrifices of our choosing!" He turned around and faced the two leaders of the formery opposing gangs fully, saying, "Look here at these—

Leshawna and Anne Marie exchanged grinning glances, before they nodded at each other and punched the man squarely in the face simultaneously.

With that fire-starting action, a chaotic uproar of fighting broke out.

* * *

[**The Red Light District, unknown alleyway - at the same time**]

Dawn had never run so fast or hard in her life. Her lungs felt like they were about to burst, and her legs felt like they were ready to melt away beneath her. Despite this, she kept running, driven purely by the sound of footsteps from behind her.

"Stop right there!" came the voices of her pursuers.

Strangely enough, she complied with their orders and came to a stop, swiveling around to face them. Her face, from her pursuers point of view, seemed to glow with a faint white light in the darkness of the night. Because of her ethereal appearance, they came to a hesitant stop several feet away from her, their bodies tense and ready.

"You don't need to be a part of this perverse group to be happy!" Dawn said suddenly, eyes landing on her all seven of her pursuers sympathetically. "You can achieve that happiness yourself!"

The seven exchanged looks amongst themselves.

"Rory," Dawn addressed the one who stood on the farthest left, "you aren't a failure in the least bit! If you just try harder and stop taking enchanted drugs, you can achieve your dream of becoming an artist!"

"How…" the addressed man stuttered with a shake of his head.

"Wait!" shouted another, holding the others back. "She's probably a _mana-user_!" He spat the last words out with hate.

"Donavon," Dawn spoke next to the man who had labeled her with spite, "not all mana-users are as bad as you think they are; the one who killed your parents nine years ago was a child who was tortured by the very same cult that you're in right now!"

Donavon froze, eyes wide.

"Don't listen to her!" a female member of the group shouted. "She's obviously lying! All mana-users are damn liars!"

"Jona…" Dawn began again, looking the woman right in the eyes. "I'm sorry for what happened to you, but—!"

The girl was silenced as Donavon approached her and slapped her to the ground, eyes filled with raged.

"I won't have a fucking dirty mana-user tell me what's right or wrong!" the man hissed as he crouched down next to her.

"We can use her as a sacrificial god…" one of the seven suggested, eyes glinting with a hint of sadism.

"Perfect…" Donavon spat, lips curling upwards.

Suddenly, a flash of red flickered from the corner of the man's eyes, and he looked up to see a collection of people dressed in flowery robes standing at the very end of the alleyway. In front of these robed people stood a red figure.

Donavon, seeing the figure, tripped backwards over his own two feet and let out blood curdling scream. Jona ran to his side and hoisted him up with a concerned expression:

"Donavon, what is it?!"

"I-It's," the man stuttered with a shake of his head as he shakily pointed at the red figure who began to approach them, "the monster from that night!"

The seven cult members looked up as the red figure drew nearer; its movements were unstable, and it kept swaying from side to side like a drunkard. Such a thing shouldn't have stricken fear in the the seven adults, yet the crescent smile that graced the red figure's face caused them all to scramble backwards.

"G-GET AWAY!" Donavon shouted at the top of his lungs, tears pouring from his eyes.

The red figure continued its approach, passing right past Dawn and coming to a stop right in front of Donavon's shaking form. The figure came only up to Donavon's stomach in height, but the latter man let out a whimper nonetheless.

"G...Get away…."

The red thing stretched up its hand and placed it directly on the man's tear-streaked cheek, its grin growing wicked. The man then began to gag and foam at the mouth, as if being choked by an unknown force. His eyes rolled back into his head and he began to convulse in place.

"Stop it at once!" Dawn shouted in horror.

The red figure lowered its hand, leaving a wet and scarlet imprint on the man's cheek as the said man fell to the ground. The other six cultists bowed down low, scooped the man off of the ground, and ran out of the alleyway without even sparing a glance back.

Dawn was now alone with the red figure; the swaying robed group at the end of the alley served as a backdrop for their conversation:

"You're not a ghost at all, are you?" Dawn questioned lightly, approaching the figure with lowered eyes that showed no fear. "You're a remnant left behind by the 'original' you." She looked up, staring into the being's red eyes. "You're an illusion made up of purely mana; you're not real." She gestured to the robed people. "And those are your own illusions."

"Bingo!" the red figure grinned, speaking in a surprisingly childish voice. It clapped loudly, and with each clap, the robed people flickered in and out of existence until they dispersed completely.

It's red skin began to crack ever so slightly.

"Have you achieved the revenge that you were seeking yet?" Dawn drew slowly, airy eyes unusually sharp.

"Revenge?" the figure scoffed — its red body chipped even more with its jerky movements. "I wasn't doing this for revenge at all; I was doing it because it was fun!"

"Why would you do such a horrible thing just for fun?"

"Because," the figure answered — the red covering on its body continued to chip away, revealing a billowing white robe, "humans are so fun to watch when they squirm around in what they call 'life'."

"You're talking as if you're not human yourself." Dawn said pointedly, watching with interest as the red covering on the figure's face began to crack.

"Should I really be hearing that statement from you?" the figure questioned, eyes grinning up at her. "After all, I know exactly _what_ you are; I've been watching carefully."

Dawn's eyes widened ever so slightly when the figure said this statement; her eyes widened further when the figure's red skin chipped away completely to reveal the face of a young boy no older than seven.

"You…!"'

"Me." the young boy agreed.

The boy's body then crumbled away in the sudden blowing wind like dust —- red dust.

* * *

[**Sycamore Road, present time**]

He watched with dull eyes as the long stretch of trees and bushes blurred together into an indistinguishably line of green from the corner of his eyes. Every now and then that green blurry line with jump along as the rickety cart he was riding in passed over a particular large rock. Although this happened only once in a while, the cart continuously vibrated from rolling over the smaller rocks beneath it. Because of this, a dusty storm of rock and sand was forming from behind the moving cart.

"This really sucks, ass…"

B turned his head away from the window of the vehicle to the person who sat across him.

The cart was built in such a way that the passengers could see all of the other passengers in the cart by simply turning their heads. A long line of chairs were built strategically along both walls of the vehicle, facing the other opposite wall. In front of these chairs was another line of chairs that were slightly shorter than the ones lining the wall. In front of those chairs was also another line of chairs that were even shorter than the ones behind it. That was how the pattern of chairs went from each side of the wall until they met at a strip of walkway at the center of the cart.

B's seat in particular was fitted in the corner of the cart. It was close to the driver's compartment.

It was strange. Despite the fact that the cart was being powered by mana, there were still several uniformed officers pulling the vehicle along from outside.

"This really fucking sucks…" the person continued, voice choking.

B peered into the person's face, eyes softening as he saw that pools of salty tears were beginning to form in the person's eyes.

"Damn it…" the person whispered harshly, slamming his foot onto the ground. "God fucking dammit!"

"Hey, quiet up in there!" came the angry growl from the officer who was posted right at the back of the cart.

"I have kids y'know," the person continued in a gruff voice, "and my wife's family doesn't have a single mana-user in it… If I had just failed this damn test, my kids wouldn't have to go through this shitty test in their lifetime ever!"

B raised his cuffed hands and placed them lightly on the man's shoulder; the man just glared at him with a shaking head. The man's glare faded, however, as he fully registered B's face.

"Wait, you're that Enchanter, aren't you?" the man whispered hopefully, grasping at B's clothing. "The rumored one that can enchant an item in a blink of an eye?!"

B nodded slowly, though his expression was an uncertain one.

"You can get us out of here!"

This gained the attention of the fellow mana-users surrounding them and they peered at the adolescent with hopeful expressions. B's eyes lowered at this and he shook his head, showing them his cuffs.

"But… Can't you figure out how to break free of these things? You're a genius after all!"

B nodded but then tilted his head in the direction of the clock that was placed right on top of the door leading to the driver's compartment.

"Would it take too much time?"

B nodded once more.

"Well...shit…"

The cart suddenly came to an abrupt stop. All of the passengers looked up in surprise at this, scrambling to get a good look out of the window. B, who sat closest to the window, merely had to turn his head to see what exactly was going on outside. And the ongoings surprised him.

Right in front of the cart stood an adolescent with strangely magenta-colored hair and deeply tanned skin. She wore a shawl over her head, so it was somewhat difficult to see her facial features. B could tell, however, that she was extremely upset, seeing how she was gesturing towards a space on the ground like a mad woman.

"You killed him!" B heard her say — her voice was so loud that everyone within the cart could hear it. "You killed my Codykinz!"

Peering a little bit lower, B could see that the thing that the female was pointing wildly at was the body of a brown-haired boy.

"Oh man!" the man next to B whispered as he observed the entire scene. "Did they actually kill the guy?!"

The guard who had been stationed at the back of the cart exited the cart through the driver's compartment. The passengers were now alone.

B peered out of the window once more.

Eleven of the twenty officers now stood around the woman, rubbing the backs of their heads nervously and attempting to calm the woman down.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am." one of the officers spoke. "Are you sure he's dead? We have a medic with us that can check his condition!"

"No!" the woman shouted, falling to her knees and wrapping her arms protectively around the deceased boy's body. "No one is allowed to touch my Codykinz!"

"Ma'am—

The supposedly deceased boy shot up suddenly, eyes wide open, causing nearly all of the officers to scream bloody murder.

"He's still alive!" one of the officers exclaimed with relief. His relief was however cut short when the boy scrambled over to his feet and clung to them desperately.

"Please…!" the boy cried, grasping at the man's pants like a wild animal. "Get her away from me…! She's insane!"

The officers stood shocked, unsure of how to react to the sudden change of events.

"She kidnapped me!" the boy continued, tears trailing from his bright blue eyes. "She's nuts!"

The magenta-haired woman laughed suddenly and hysterically, before she swooped low to pick the boy off of his feet.

"No one deserves my Codykinz but me!" the woman shouted before she took off towards the woods and disappeared.

The officers stared at eachother for a moment, exchanging glances. A second later, nearly all of them — one remained behind — were bounding off into the woods themselves in search of the crazed-woman and kidnapped boy.

B exchanged a look with the man beside him. He then returned his attention to the ongoings outside.

The one officer who had remained behind was now pacing back and forth right along the greens of the forest. The officer had a bored look on his face and kept glancing at the cart longingly, like he wanted to hurry up and get a move on again. Something flashed in the shrubberies to the officer's right.

The angle in which that 'something' flashed was an angle that prevented the officer from noticing that 'something' but allowed those who were at the window to identify what that 'something' was: a steel baseball bat. That baseball bat swung in a high arch suddenly, colliding with the back of the officer's head with a loud resounding crack. The officer's body collapsed onto the ground and was promptly dragged back into the bushes.

Shortly after, a bright green head appeared out of the bushes followed by a red one and then a turquoise one. Those three colors rose from bushes and approached the cart cautiously. The three colors belonged to three adolescents: one male and two females. The male carried a silver bat in hand — he had probably been the one who had knocked out the officer. The female with red hair carried, with an expression of uncertainty, a slew of cards in both of her hands. The other female was completely empty handed.

"What the hell are they doing…?" asked the man sitting beside B. B shrugged in turn, keeping his eyes glued to the events unfolding outside.

The unarmed woman had stopped in place suddenly and was now placing a hand on the dirty ground while extending the other towards the cart. At first, B thought that she was just as insane as the woman from earlier. All thoughts related to this changed, however, as he saw a green and glass-like substance spread from her fingertips and onto the ground. B stared at this sight in awe.

"Woah," the man beside B shouted, gesturing to something within the cart, "look; look at that!"

B tore his gaze away from the ongoings outside using pure willpower and followed the shouting man's fingertip to the back of the cart. The back of the cart was now covered with a substance similar to the substance that had sprung from the woman's fingertips outside. Realizing this, B swiveled his head and looked out the window again.

Much to his surprise, however, the woman was no longer with the two other adolescents, although the glass-like substance she had placed on the ground was still there.

"Hey," came an unfamiliar voice at the back of the cart. B turned his head just in time to see the turquoise-haired woman from outside emerge from the glass-like substance covering the wall, "I heard that you all called for a rescue party."

A collection of shouts and screams followed shortly, courtesy of the thoroughly shocked mana-users.

"Hey!" the woman whispered harshly. "I need you guys to be quiet!" Once the bound mana-users had silenced themselves, the woman began to speak again: "The name is Gwen and my friends and I are going to get you all out of here!"

The faces of all those within the cart lit up like fireworks. Some even began to cry tears of joy, muttering numerous 'thank you's under their breaths.

"But I'm going to need the help of everyone who is in here!"

The joyous expressions immediately fell.

"None of us can use any of our mana!" the man beside B protested loudly, raising his hands up to show Gwen his cuffs. "These things are preventing us from using it!"

"What?" Gwen questioned, voice growing sharp as her eyes widened. She reached for the person nearest to her and examined their cuffs. "The Empire has found out a way to limit a mana-user's powers…?" For a moment her expression had appeared hopeful, but the epxression disappeared as quickly as it had come.

"We can't help you without our powers!" the man continued. "And we don't know to get these things off!"

There was a pause of silence and of hopelessness, and for a moment it appeared as if the woman was about to turn tail and run. However, she did the exact opposite. She walked right up to the man who had spoken and stared at him in the eyes, saying in an irritated voice:

"Your powers don't determine who the frick you are. It doesn't matter whether or not you're a mana-user! Having frickin' magic doesn't determine whether or not you'll stand up for yourself! _You _determine that. It's frickin' logic!"

The man gaped, slightly taken aback.

Suddenly the door to the driver's compartment swung open and five officers appeared in the room, all wearing irritable expressions:

"What the hell is the damn ruckus—

And then the five saw Gwen; their irritable expressions turned surprised and then steely.

"Damnit!" Gwen shouted as she took a step back. She glanced back at the glass-covering on the wall, before she turned on her heels and ran.

All five officers lunged at her; one in particular fell to the ground and managed to grab at her ankles, causing her to trip and fall flat on her face. Together, the five pinned her to the ground, wearing victorious grins.

"Looks like we've got us an extra mana-user!" the man on top of her grinned as he slammed bronze-cuffs over her wrists. He lowered his head and whispered into her ear: "We found your friends loitering outside and nicked them too. One of them appears to be the famous rebel 'Delinquent' — more money for us!"

The already bound mana-users watched the entire struggle motionlessly from their seats. When Gwen met their eyes, they averted their gazes. They were too ashamed of their cowardly actions.

"You're all cowards!" Gwen shouted angrily at the top of her lungs. "All of you!"

* * *

[**Capital City, Military District, Principle Tower, Reception Hall - an hour later**]

Izzy hummed to herself as she skipped down the dimly lit hall. She couldn't help but grin as she recalled the surprised expressions the six adolescents had given her when she had decided to let them go.

"They're so hysterical!" Izzy said loudly to herself with a shake of her ginger head.

"General Burns?" came a tentative voice.

She turned and found herself staring at a man wearing a faded blue messenger's uniform. He met her eyes and rubbed his arms nervously. She approached him quickly, watching as his tentative expression became a fearful one.

"Who told you my name?!" Izzy shouted loudly, coming to a defensive stance. "It was the organization wasn't it?" She pointed to the sky then, causing the man's expression to turn confused. "But, hear me: you'll never catch me, haha!"

"Actually," the man coughed awkwardly, digging into a satchel that hung at his side and pulling out a manilla envelope, "I have a message from Mrs. Tade; she said that it was a sketch of 'the girl'." He extended his hand outward, envelop laying lightly on his palm.

"Oh! A present from Tade?" Izzy broke out into a grin, tearing the envelope away from the man's grasp. "Yay for me!" She reached for the edge of the envelope and tore it slightly, before she paused to give the waiting man a meaningful look with a raised chin: "Hem, hem?"

"Oh, of course!" The man said, flustered; he took a quick and awkward bow and scampered off towards the exit at the end of the hall.

When she saw that he was no longer in sight, she finally followed through with her tearing movements and ripped the envelope open. She frowned suddenly in thought, before she moved to tear the entire front side of the envelope off with a maddening grin. Tearing things apart was fun afterall!

The bits and pieces of the manilla covering fluttered to the ground, and the sketched image of the suspected girl was fully revealed to the ginger General.

Now, to any ordinary person, the sketched picture seemed to portray the image of an ordinary girl with sharp and petite features and an airy kind of look in her eyes. Izzy was no ordinary person, however. So she looked on at the image with widened eyes and a slightly gaping mouth:

"Dawn?"

* * *

**A/N:** Two chapters in two days?! It's a Christmas miracle! Huzzah! And we've reached our technical tenth chapter! So, what did you think of this chapter? The rebels are sure in quite the predicament, aren't they? The next chapter will conclude this story arc…! ;3

Sorry if certain plotlines are moving along slowly; all of the events in this current arc are supposed to occur at the same time, so… Bluh DX.

By the way: a personal opinion question: do you guys prefer longer arcs or shorter arcs?

Reader's Choice (2 Luck Rolls):

1. A number below leads to the two gangs winning the fight against the cultists; the other leads to them losing it:

A. One

B. Two

2. A certain number below leads to the rebels escaping their predicament with the help of the mana-users, while another one leads to them being captured completely:

A. One

B. Two

Review Responses -

**phoenixdragon78**: :3

**SuperGirlInJeans**: Aw, thanks! :D.. You didn't vote again D:..

JockShipper: Oh yes the would; they'd totally pwn ass xD… (I ship jock too; no shame!)

**LuhM**: Awesome; I'll sprinkle a lot of it in this story just for you! xD… Much intense indeed…

**Starryoak**: Sh—-How did you find that out?! Was it that obvious? XD And here I thought I was being all clever and mysterious. /emo-corner.

**BettyCrocker540**: Okay, thanks! ;3. Wow, you got all of the Council Members right on… ;o.—wait, are you a Hunger Games fan?

**firepoisonsteel**: Yup, they will — especially in a latter arc. All of the characters will actually ;o.

**SandraStar66:** Oh man, I didn't even notice the whole nine-Trent-cult thing! xD. That would've been a hilariously disturbing plot twist… Meh, oh well. /sighs. I wish I had a friend who was into TD; most of my friends don't even watch the show anymore Dx.

**Guest**: Many thanks!

**MostAwesomeTDFan**: Why, thank ya'! I actually enjoy writing the darker paths xD; so we're kind of the same in that area. Dawn has survived this chapter, so worry not my friend! Leshawna and Anne Marie aren't your favorites? xD If I may ask, which characters are your favorites? ;O. Sorry about the whole slow storyline thing. vv. The rebels will end up reaching the broker in the next arc though, so worry not! As for the whole Bridgette and Geoff thing, the two will end up meeting the rebels at one point. /nodnod. Those two robbers are actually my favorite POV to write in xD

**Karts of Sugar Rush**: Yeah, I feel you, man. v.v. Wait, what?! Burromuerto?! D: Damn, I guess I have to go back and change it. /tears of blood. Yup, the Pahkitew kids are going to be in this story most likely… They're probably going to show up much later though.


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